


Tidal

by scaryspice



Series: Under Pacific skies [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: 96 line appreciation fic ngl, Alternate Universe - Surfers, Birthday celebrations galore, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Unexplored angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-08-29 18:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 70,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16749547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaryspice/pseuds/scaryspice
Summary: “Listen, this will sound odd and potentially predatory,” he ventures without hesitation. “But I just thought I’d invite you to a birthday this Saturday. It’s happening at my place and I don’t know…”He lets his hand drop to the keyboard of the old desktop computer they have at the shop and bites the inside of his right cheek, a little suspicious. “Chances are you’re a predator, yes,” he says but tries to control his retreating tone, because this guy is still a customer after all. Wonwoo doesn’t even work here, but a customer is still a customer.-Whatever this thing going on between them is, it ends up lasting for far more seasons than Wonwoo anticipated when they first met at the surf shop on fall. Alternatively, a more detailed glimpse into how Wonwoo and Mingyu went from strangers to friends with benefits to something else.





	1. Fall

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. ‘Tidal’ is a Wonwoo-centric prequel. Reading ["besides surfing, what do you think about? love, for instance?"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13737333) isn't necessary unless you'd like a concise peek into Mingyu's feelings during the week of Wonwoo’s birthday.
> 
> 2\. Most of the stuff mentioned comes from my online researches about Jeju Island, but of course I took the liberty of making adaptations for plot's sake, so take locations as a grain of salt – some of them may be misleading.
> 
> 3\. My intention was to add something that would connect ‘Tidal’ to ‘Besides surfing…’ structure (the narrative is split in days) so I decided to distribute important bits of MinWon evolving relationship within seasons. Expect time jumps.
> 
> 4\. I usually don’t include honorifics in my writing, but I've used them in this series because it’s somewhat important for these works dynamic. It helps to explain their relationship growth.
> 
> 5\. I tried to fix everything but I tend to change bits of the plot or add stuff to the dialogues each time I go back to re-read. I was starting to second-guess my plot and get unmotivated because I’m a hot mess. So… I stopped fixing. 
> 
> 6\. As usual, for reference: [fall & spring](https://playmoss.com/en/scary_spice/playlist/tidal) \+ [summer & winter](https://playmoss.com/en/scary_spice/playlist/tidal-ii)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be long, it's just for now. I'll come back here when time allows. (flor)

~~~~Soonyoung says the events of the life changing summer of 2008 may stir memories at random times. Wonwoo assumes he's got a point when way past the yacht club, the marina and the mansions common of the wealthy neighborhood he knows as home, the sky above the rooftops takes only a minute or so to gradually shift from gray to the same color of the tutti-frutti slushies they sell at the ice cream parlor and that have been coloring every ten-year-old’s tongues blue for as long as he can remember of his life at the Island.

The hues of blue up in the sky surface in wisps at the same pace in which Jihoon presses the gas pedal down so ever delicately when the low rise building of the surf shop comes into view at the end of the avenue. Therefore, by the time he makes a right turn to pull up, rotating his hand at the center of the steering wheel with all the dexterity that Wonwoo lacks in terms of driving, the raindrops have nearly stopped pouring. Still, the smell of muggy soil wafts up and invades the car through its rolled down windows, bringing memories from past seasons with it.

Conjuring a clear picture of the ice cream parlor from inside the old wreck that is Jihoon’s car, he notices now that his teeth still ache whenever he broods over the scalding afternoon in which Jeonghan and Seungcheol tried to get rid of Soonyoung and Wonwoo, who seemed to follow the elders around wherever they went, by holding a contest in order to find out who out of the four of them would be capable of slurping ten slushies within the short spam of a minute.

Both boys had easily fell for the prank and spent the rest of their week throwing up the blue contents of their stomachs, unable to put their feet out of their houses due to a fever induced by Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s machiavellian plan.

It happened two summers after the Kwon family moved to the empty house besides of the Jeon’s own and one before they embraced and carried on the back of their beaten up bikes the new Chinese kid named Junhui right after his family moved to the Island, passionately showing him all of their favorite places, secret spots or any other attraction the place offered. From flowers to food, from beaches to waterfalls, from the swimming pool on Wonwoo’s backyard to the bakery in which Wonwoo would come to work years later, the only place where the former staff were way too accustomed to the damp crumbled bills they would take out of their pockets to pay for their pastries after an entire day at the beach.

“What are these stupid kids doing?” Jihoon sneers with a clenched jaw, head turned over his shoulder and out the window to look at something across the street. “It’s fucking freezing and freaking… Raining! They’ll get caught in the undertow.”

Wonwoo lifts his butt from the passenger seat and peeks up, only to see a bunch of teens crossing the sidewalk outside whilst sheltering from the drizzle as they hold surfboards above their heads. It’s windy, terribly so, but Wonwoo has witnessed worse Novembers and he can’t see himself inside anything warmer than his mauve colored anorak until the month is over.

The first days of November have been one of those in which it looked like it could rain at any moment and people would pack their umbrella anywhere they went, afraid the raindrops would ruin their hair-do. Albeit the weather forecast has predicted an entire day of cloudy skies and eleven degrees for this week, as usual from Jeju Island, so far the sky has already shown signs of clearing up and it grants the islanders with a fine, sweater weather morning.

“You’re getting old,” he accuses a well-wrapped up Jihoon, eyes moving past the teens and back to his friend as he slides down on his seat. It’s too early and believing he’s a hundred-percent awake and capable of advanced mental functions would be a terrible mistake. “It’s drizzling. Literally drizzling and your wipers aren’t even on. This is the warmest fall in years and there is no sign of undertow at the beach.”

In an authentic demonstration of bitterness, Jihoon releases a hand from the wheel and decides to be an ass just because he can, turning the windshield wiper on. The thing might get stuck midway due to the lack of proper raindrops to get rid of, but Jihoon isn’t one to waste time with small things.

Most people may just consider him humorless and way too prissy for their liking, and Wonwoo did once too when they used to meet at the surf shop in which Junhui works, before they eventually became friends. Jihoon would come in, buy two packs of Mrs. Palmers surfwax and leave without muttering a word besides a flat ‘thanks’. Jihoon has been coded like this and only some lucky fuckups had the opportunity of befriending him, Wonwoo of course being one of them.

“Any season in which the weather is below twenty degrees won’t work for me,” he retorts, hooking his eyes again in the group willing to surf the cool water at the nearest beach. “I need me some heat and sunny days. This weather is making me complain every day. I’m miserable.”

“You’re always complaining though.”

“Because”, he clips the word due to his friend’s inattentive remark, “this ain’t no Mexico, no Spain but Jeju-do, and this lame, definitely not above twenty degrees Celsius weather is making me miserable! That’s what I’ve just said, Wonwoo!” He leans backwards on his seat, crossing his arms over his chest the following second. “You didn’t hear this from me but Soonyoung made a point last night.”

Wonwoo has never heard such sentence coming out of his friend’s mouth. “You do know he wasn’t exactly sober when he suggested we flew to Italy to open a tobacco shop just because it’s getting cold in here, right?” Wonwoo asks with just the right amount of reluctance in his eyes. Soonyoung’s giddy self is infamous for coming up with unusual and impractical plans. “I’m convinced he’s not even well-acquaintance with the bureaucracy one has to go through to open a decent shop. You’re overlooking thousands of crucial details.”

“Ok, but before dismissing the idea completely, picture this as a hard rock that has all the potential to become a gem, will you? I’m determined to trim off the edges, change a thing or two, and make an actual plan out of it.”

Wonwoo snorts and unbuckles, but doesn’t make a move to leave the car just yet. He’s comfortable like this, knees hitting the glove compartment now, eyes at headboard’s level, unable to peek at the few people out in the street this early in the morning. “So what you’re saying is that moving to Italy is a bad idea indeed but you’re willing to upgrade it to fit your needs? This is Soon’s trademark mindset! You know that thing he does when he tries to make everything positive even if it’s incredibly shitty? You’re starting to sound like him and the three of you haven’t even moved in together yet!”

Jihoon’s neck disappears for a second as he raises and drops his shoulders. “I doubt that out of all the people in the world I’d sound like _him_ , but if you moved in with us, things would be balanced out, you dig me? You and I work in the same wavelength.”

“Trying to drag me to the same pit you fell, eh? For real though, I’d love to discuss the terrible idea that is you moving in with Tweedledee and Tweeddledum but I have to open the shop for Jun and go behind the counter,” he says and cuts short any small hope Jihoon may have grown to get the former to daydream of better days along with him.

Moving in with their friends had sounded a good idea to a high Jihoon the previous weekend, but as the days pass and Soonyoung and Junhui start to move their stuff around their rented apartment to fit his own when he eventually take them there, both Wonwoo and him only see how bad this idea can turn out to be.

“Yeah, yeah, get out of my car. I have a class now.” Jihoon drums his index fingers on the steering wheel, even more reluctant now. “That is, if I don’t decide to drop everything before I even get there.”

“Sure.” Wonwoo nods a couple times and bites his bottom lip. “Be like the rest of us college drop-outs who only seem to work and surf their days away, smarty!”

“Well, la-di-da! Maybe I will!” he sing-songs with a pretentious tone and shoos Wonwoo out of his car.

“Don’t come asking for help when your mother starts dramatizing everything, just so you know,” he advises and presses a button at the headboard to unlock the doors, making a quick work of jumping off of the car. “And by the way, thanks for the ride. Catch up with you later,” he says, lowering his head to look at his friend through the rolled down windows.

“See ya!” He waves a goodbye and shifts gears to back up in the sodden street again.

Wonwoo strolls toward the building, head ducking low in order to protect his round glasses from the raindrops, and fetches in the back pocket of his jeans the set of keys Junhui had handed to him this morning to unlock the glass door. Once inside, he closes the entrance to block the sizzle from wetting the flooring and moves behind the counter, where he deposits the keys and rips a blank sheet from Junhui’s sketchbook.

He is still drawing absentmindedly the _open_ sign he plans on attaching to the entrance when the first clients of the morning push the door open and clean their feet on the ‘Make Today Claw-some’ doormat. Junhui had thought that adding a cat pun to their new welcoming mat would suit the overall mood of the shop even if the joke made no sense whatsoever.

Wonwoo lifts his head in acknowledgment, noticing how the two incomers stand close to the shut door, facing him instead of dashing to the aisles filled of surf equipment and boards designed by both Junhui and his boss, a foreign man who Wonwoo has only seen in person five times at most but seems to trust Junhui enough to let the shop in his hands from Monday to Saturday.

“You’re not the guy who is always behind the counter. Who _are_ you?”

Wonwoo is snapped out of his trance when the shortest out of the two males addresses him differently than with the usual morning greeting, so familiar to his ears.

At the bakery, half of the customers that cross Wonwoo’s path are barely people in the morning, but at the surf shop they often seem livelier even early in the morning. Being too accustomed to the often drowsy and lethargic rhythm of his mornings, he takes a while to come down to his senses, but being at least a little puzzled by the amount of words the human being in front of him has managed to pour, he eventually does.

“Yeah, I’m not Chinese,” he says at a poor attempt of being humorous. His jokes are brilliant, he knows that, but finding Islanders with a similar comedic timing it’s hard these days. “I’m just covering for him because he has a,” he pauses for a hot second, trying to find a better way to inform these clients that their favorite shaper has a major hangover and couldn’t get up at six to work, “you know, headache. A bad one.”

“How do we know you’re not robbing the shop and we should take action?”

He’s such a brat. Wonwoo recognizes brats from a distance.

“Are you a cop?”

His eyes drop to the paper and sharpie in his possession again. Junhui has a neater handwriting thanks to his mother’s buggering and Wonwoo’s just bad, perhaps a reflex of the absence of his parents, but his sign will definitely do. He finishes it before he addresses the two boys again, “if you were a local you would definitely know I’m always ‘round here helping out whenever I have free time.”

“ _Touché_ ,” he says, already discovering a new acquired interest on one of the shelves of goggles ahead of him, where he hides behind in sequence, leaving his buddy all by himself, feet still rooted to the doormat.

“Are you two looking for something in special?” Wonwoo asks instead, following the protocol as he would be encouraged to do so at the bakery, but not here, where things are naturally informal.

“Kinda. Is that… I was just remembering that I have seen you around town before.”

“Seen me before? You come here often?”

“More than a dozen times since we moved in. This is the only surf shop at this side of the Island,” he points out, all smartassey and as if Wonwoo wouldn’t know. It’s a little charming, he will admit it, but the male in question wears a fluffy and warm long sleeved shirt and although the article of clothing would have been considered appropriate for this November in special, it also resembles the warm duvet that’s being kept at the bottom of his wardrobe since last March and this alone makes him want to tell this guy that he’s a fool. “But I saw you somewhere else.”

“Since you moved in? You're not from the Island then?”

“I am, but we moved to the south side in February. I've visited nearly every weekend of my life,” the guy replies, “because my mom’s family is from here.”

“Ah, a _haole_.”

Wonwoo glues the final piece of adhesive tape on his sign and moves towards the guy, who sidesteps to give him some room. As he fixates the sign to the door, he notices the rain has finally stopped pouring completely.

“Were you surfing?”

The surfboards resting against the outside wall tattles on their whereabouts.

“You’re like, the second person I saw surfing today. Saw some kids heading to the beach a while ago. Man, the water must be freezing.”

“Fuck, it is,” he says shoving his hands inside the pockets of his shorts, “but we were past the reef so we made it work.” Whether surfing past the shore break, where the water temperature is at least 4 degrees above the beach, or not, it’s still cold.

“Not Busan, but not like it’ll kill us either,” his friend butts in, making both of them snap their heads in his direction. Wonwoo hasn’t even noticed how the boy managed to move from the goggles and the bare decks hanging on a shelf on the top to the counter, where he drums his fingers on a new although poorly folded black stretch bag decorated with a white skeleton for his board. “Next to Jeju’s fall, Busan’s winter a piece of cake.”

Wonwoo has heard about it, the surfers who leave the Island on weekends during winter, when the water is so freezing nobody gets to surf, and go after Busan’s waves and a more bearable temperature. Never being to Busan or anywhere else in South Korea but Seoul and Jeju, this winter he’ll certainly be found stuck going from work to home and back, and maybe hitting the beach one or two times during the season just for kicks.

“That’s nuts,” he says, but searches for some sort of assurance in the guy in front of him before returning behind the counter. It’s where their subject dies, because from this moment on, the few words they exchange are related to the purchase.

“Have fun!” Wonwoo wishes his first client of the morning and the guy settles for nodding before looking at his friend from over his own shoulder.

“Uh.”

It’s a simple and short word but also enough to make Wonwoo remember that out of all the things he has noticed working at the bakery, one of the most important is that Wednesdays never seem to quite hold surprises.

In the middle of the week everything’s already drawn up as people anxiously wait for the weekend. Roses don’t grow in September and on Wednesdays people are simply not willing to neither go out of their way nor consider possibilities that haven’t crossed their minds ‘till this point.

“I guess I’ll wait outside,” he says glancing at Wonwoo again and carrying his newly acquisition out the door with him, although leaving both Wonwoo and his friend behind inside.

Wonwoo had expected to be by himself again and check the time on his phone whilst hoping Junhui arrives soon so he can head to the bakery in time for his own shift, but now he’s left with company.

“Listen, this will sound odd and potentially predatory,” he ventures without hesitation, “but I just thought I’d invite you to a birthday this Saturday. It’s happening at my place and I don’t know…”

Wonwoo wonders if he’s even able of foretelling the future, because for some reason he just knows misfortune awaits for him as soon as the guy finishes his sentence. It’s not that he believes disaster will find him every day, but he’s incredibly used to monotonous Wednesdays and being surrounded by aged islanders with a sweet tooth, so it's only prudent to assume this good looking guy with a fine contoured face and sweet eyes would give him hell sooner or later.

He lets his hand drop at the keyboard of the old desktop computer they have at the shop and bites the inside of his right cheek, a little suspicious. “Chances are you’re a predator, yes,” he says but tries to control his retreating tone, because this guy is still a customer after all. Wonwoo doesn’t even work here, but a customer is still a customer. “But I’m also 1,82m and I wouldn’t go down without a fight and, y’know, scratching your skin so the forensic team would have your DNA when they eventually find my body.”

The guy seems slightly taken aback by Wonwoo’s odd reply and wording, and with a reason. Wonwoo is kidding and he doesn’t think he’s a predator indeed but of course the guy doesn’t quite get his humor. No one does. Still, he tells him, “you really seem to have spent some time thinking this over, but am around 1,86m, 1,87m, and, don’t get me wrong, your body is fine the way it is but I’m stronger and I suppose this would count on my favor if I were to beat you up. Not that I’m actually doing it. Really, it’s all hypothetical but since you brought this up…!”

He’s got a point and it kind of hurts his ego, Wonwoo won’t deny it, so he fixes the glasses on his face to busy himself.

“I invited you because I’m, well, interested in you, so I was just thinking that maybe I should make a move already,” he explains. “Definitely not a creep. I didn’t even know you worked here.”

“Another thing you don’t know is if I’m into guys at all.”

“Well, are you then?”

“That’s irrelevant. I’m kinda working at the moment and it’s just not the right time or place to get myself a date.”

Wonwoo shrugs a single shoulder and stares at him from underneath his lashes, a brow darting up in defiance. His answer is hot and sweet and he’s already expecting the male to begrudgingly dart out the shop. And call him a jerk. And never come back.

He has been practicing putting greasy boys out the bakery for months now because his co-workers are creeps’ magnets. Junhui may even have to deal with a stupid complaint about Wonwoo’s behavior filed, but that’s just his luck he doesn’t have any employee ties with the shop and it’s only here covering up for a friend.  

The guy smiles with smugness and it rivals Wonwoo’s own capacity of being a conceited asshole. It’s all he needs to regain confidence.

“So in short, what you’re saying is if we met elsewhere you wouldn’t be against hanging out with me?” he prompts, apparently unbothered for hogging Wonwoo’s attention from all the stuff he’s supposed to be doing, like turning the music on to set the mood. Setting the mood is the first thing Junhui does when he arrives; Wonwoo has never known that the mood was so important but it is apparently. At the bakery the most important thing is setting the small countdown timer in the format of a chicken otherwise you’ll get your pumpkin bread burnt inside the oven.

His broad shoulders block a good portion of his view of the entrance and give him the fake impression that the group of pretty girls wearing white tank tops that hop off a Honda parked outside won’t come in at any time now.

Wonwoo finds himself cackling at how silly this situation is and shrugs rather hesitantly. “I mean, yes, who knows?” he says, perhaps allowing the teasing tone of his voice outweigh the professional façade that has earned him the title of Employee of The Month more times than any other bakery employee. “You’ve seen me around before, you said yourself. Nothing stopping us from meeting elsewhere.”

“It’s a small town.” The guy nods once, pleased with the answer, and shoots him a wink that catches Wonwoo off guard. It’s condescending as hell and Wonwoo feels suspended on air for a second. “I’m not as favorable as you to let it on fate’s hands though, so I’m giving you my number if that’s ok?” Wonwoo watches him approach the counter and scribe down a number inside Junhui’s sketchbook with the sharpie.

The girls come inside. The words that could still be said are doused by theirs, who don’t even acknowledge their presence, but the guy takes it as his cue to leave either way.

Wonwoo waits for him to exit the shop, not discarding the number or the possibility of running into him again at the beach, the pros of said meeting clearly overcoming the cons.

                   

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Just as Wednesdays are usually bland, Saturdays carry this intrinsic and restless feeling that Wonwoo experiences inside Jihoon’s car whilst having his ears busied by one of Soonyoung’s stupid sounding and irrational stories yet again – this one is particularly tinged with good intentions, but nevertheless foolish.

“…and after we both jumped off our boards to avoid a collision, I shouted _‘_ hey, have you ever heard of surf etiquette?’ and then he dead-ass answered ‘eti–what? I don’t speak French, man!’, so of course I said–“ Soonyoung gets cut off by Jihoon as the younger struggles to speak over his best-friend’s never-ending explanation.

“Right, I know this is supposed to explain how you have met this guy and ended up here but,” he pauses briefly and shifts gears to pull up on a calm, silent street at the feet of a slope that, if Wonwoo isn’t mistaken, leads to the road to Jungmun beach, “I don’t get how you went from crashing on him while surfing to being invited to this guy’s party.”

“First of all,” Soonyoung starts, as sure of himself as he has been every day of his life. He has the ability of sounding confident even when he is proposing impractical plans, and aside form dancing, this is his best talent. Observing his friends go back and forth, Wonwoo wishes he had a talent too. “This isn’t a party, just a reunion for friends–“

“Friends whom we have never seen before?” Junhui murmurs to Wonwoo and the male smirks because Junhui has just stolen the words from his mouth.

He’s already expecting this to become yet another awkward night in the company of surfers he'll eventually befriend, but who will only hog his Saturday night, when he could as well be playing games in the safety of his bedroom and stuffing himself to the brim with cheese pizza.

“–and second,” he continues, unbothered, “funny happenstances bring people together all the time. That’s how you befriend people in most cases. That’s how I befriended you! He’s a great guy with a huge smile and a great personality and we just clicked–“

“Because you’re such a delight to be around,” Wonwoo mocks.

“-so I figured I’d show up since he was so polite to invite me over.”

Jihoon knits his brows together to try and make a point and averts his eyes from the silent street to glance to the male riding shotgun.

Albeit still able to listen to Jihoon and Soonyoung’s bickering, Wonwoo settles for looking out the window to try and discover where he’ll spend the rest of his night in case he needs a plan B to escape – it happened once, at a night particularly similar to this, as expected when you’re friends with party animal Kwon Soonyoung and right-arm men Wen Junhui and Lee Jihoon.

The address Soonyoung got in hands when he texted them to inform they had plans for their Saturday night has led them to a single-story quaint bungalow built of white worn out clapboards, only a couple miles away from Wonwoo’s favorite beach, in a part of town in which there’s no need to add fences to divide the sidewalk from the lawn, tufts of it now slightly faded by the unforgiving season.

There, at a comfortable distance from the busiest side of his hometown, where people walk in quick and furtive steps at the unstoppable rhythm that Wonwoo has grown to despise at an incredibly precocious age, the sacrosanct neighborhood manages to be a good representation of the positive facets the Southern side of the island has shown to Wonwoo throughout his life.

But it’s quiet – deadly so – and it doesn’t exactly fits his idea of a birthday party.

“Wait.”

Soonyoung holds a hand up to stop Jihoon and drops his eyes to the phone in his hands.

“Jeonghan-hyung just texted asking for the address. Guess they decided to come too.”

“God, hyungs coulda saved their asses,” Jihoon says under his breath, “but no! Of course they had to change their minds and join us!”

Junhui squeezes his tall body between the front seats. “Hey, can we keep it down to two hours?” Junhui speaks up, but his voice remains so docile that there is no indication he is annoyed for being dragged to a stranger’s party whatsoever. “I have a deck to finish tomorrow and two more to start. I want to add some sick, iridescent flames on the sides and–”

“Two hours tops! Yes!” Jihoon agrees, punching the steering wheel. The honk echoes all over the block accidently. “Finally someone with some sense! And it’s Wen Junhui, who’d have known?”

“Alright, they’re nearby so they should be here at any minute,” Soonyoung says pocketing his phone and opens the door to jump out, leaving the others behind.

Now it’s just the three of them inside, Jihoon unbuckles the seat belt with a sigh and swivels his body on his seat to face Junhui and Wonwoo the best he can. “Warnings. If someone pukes on me, I’m leaving and you can go walking. Also, I’ll try not to get so shitfaced tonight so I can drive us home safely but I can’t promise anything if Soonyoung’s buddy doesn’t know how to throw a party and all there is to do is drinking, so we’re all sharing a cab.”

“Got it. I’ll make sure to throw up on Wonwoo instead.”

“Not unless you want to get punched!” Wonwoo says bawling his hands into fists and punching Junhui’s face playfully. Junhui plays along and makes his best impersonation of a slow-motion fall.

“Pipe down you two.”

Junhui and Wonwoo quit playing instantly. Junhui lifts his butt from the seat to grab the keys from the ignition and they leave the car. Soonyoung walks in a fast pace inside the property as if he has been here before, which Wonwoo doesn’t doubt, considering the end of his explanation as for how they ended up there is yet to be told.

“Soonyoung! Wait!” Jihoon says after him. “Whose party is this again?”

“I told you like a thousand times this isn’t a party, just a get together. These guys moved to this side of Jeju at the beginning of the year, so new friends are always welcomed, right? It’s a birthday, you need friends to make one! It’s mandatory!”

“Acknowledging whose birthday we’re attending is mandatory as well, unless you plan on wishing a happy birthday to everyone that we run onto!” The other mocks, catching up with him.

“We’ll find out! Ride with the wave, man,” Soonyoung says throwing his hands up in the air, too chilled out to engage in bickering.

Wonwoo jogs to catch up with them after something clicks right in front of his eyes and the others continue to stroll further inside the property.

“You said they have moved recently?”

Soonyoung spins to face him but never stops walking backwards to the front porch. Even from a few steps away from the house, Wonwoo can’t hear music blaring from inside and if he wasn’t too caught up on the few information Soonyoung has disclosed about this party, he would be even more worried.

“Neh.”

Wonwoo slows his steps and lingers behind, cowering away for a second. “I guess I know whose party this is!” he announces, even though this is an idea a tad too coincidental to be properly considered.

“You might! This town’s as small as an egg and we’re often running into the same old crowd over and over again!” Soonyoung replies, unimpressed brows shooting up, as if crashing on strangers’ parties is usual occurrence in his life. “Woo,” he adds as an afterthought, “this is Jeju!”

Wonwoo desperately wants to talk more about these people they’re being introduced to tonight, but Soonyoung is quick to dematerialize in thin air, now you see him now you don’t, as well as acting remarkably reticent when it comes to answering the questions Wonwoo doesn’t have time to ask.

“You coming?” Junhui asks, brushing past Wonwoo to get to the creaky old boards of the bungalow’s porch, hands digging in his trainers’ pockets.

To say Wonwoo’s assumption falls apart when he, Jihoon and Junhui eventually follow Soonyoung inside the bungalow’s living room and he finds nobody there but a guy flashing them a smile and the lifeguard that has a foreign name and has always looked too scrawny to be working in such position but is often present in Jungmun’s lifeguard station, it’s an understatement.  

Some of the lightbulbs on the ceiling are off and even though it’s November 7 already, the Halloween decoration hasn’t been cleaned yet, but the white fairy lights hanging off the walls and the two trays of cupcakes on the joint-kitchen counter help to give off a less eccentric aura to the house.

A green, plain surfboard pokes from behind the window curtains. Jungmun’s lifeguard sits cross-legged on a caramel-orange sofa and flashes them a timid smile. There’s a purple stain smudged behind his pierced ear, residues of all the sunscreen he must have applied at some moment in the past hours, before the nightfall. A round dinner table, which only function seems to be stealing precious space out of the living room, is in a corner, sheltering cups and bottles of booze. The guy with whom Wonwoo had an odd encounter three days prior is nowhere to be seen.

“You came!” the resident of the bungalow addresses Soonyoung, arms wide open in excitement. “And you even brought friends!”

Soonyoung and his friend greet each other and Jihoon offers a hand too, but the guy bows slightly in their direction, which causes Jihoon to use his other hand to shake the one being offered to the host and brushes off his embarrassment.

“Seokmin-ssi.” Soonyoung points the three boys standing behind him. “These are Jihoon, Junnie and Wonwoo.” Wonwoo and Junhui reciprocate the bow rapidly, even though a little thrown off by the sudden formality. “Our hyungs are coming over too! Is this too many people?

“Oh!” Seokmin’s jaw hangs low and he nods in acknowledgement. “No! It’ll be just the five of us – that’s our friend Joshua, by the way – and whoever you invited.”

Jihoon hides behind Junhui and whispers to his ear, “five? I can only see two? What type of party is this? It’s a bit too tame for Soonyoung, no?”

“Not a party, just a get together,” Seokmin corrects him, not only looking a lot like the type of guy they wouldn’t trust if they were characters in a horror movie but also to have one hell of a hearing. Wonwoo considers questioning Seokmin about his friends’ absence, but he isn’t in the right position to do that at the moment. “It’s my housemate’s birthday and we thought we’d do something different for a change.”

Soonyoung sends them a glance over his left shoulder and signals the caramel sofa, earning Junhui’s comprehension of his message right away, because Junhui has never been one to enjoy seeing his friends in tight spots, even if it meant he would end up in one himself. This is certainly how Wonwoo and Junhui team up with Joshua on the sofa.

“Hey! Are these cupcakes like magical brownies?” Soonyoung asks to Seokmin and Wonwoo snorts from the sofa, shoulders going up and then down. There’s no such thing as cupcakes made of weed.

“No, but this is a sick idea! We should discuss this later. I’m a dope cook!”

“He’s our pride and joy!” Joshua discloses, finally looking less out of place for being around so many people he surely has seen around but never been formally introduced to.

The entrance door opens again ten minutes from there, only to reveal Jeonghan and Seungcheol looking considerably less taken aback than the previous group had when they came in. They’re all curious smiles.

Wonwoo acknowledges his friends’ as soon as they come inside, feeling decidedly satisfied for their presence. Watching them bowing to all of them from not so far, he plans on going after the beer cans Seokmin said he could find inside the fridge, the only beverage in this social event that he is sure he can handle well after getting so drunk in his friends company earlier in the week.

Wonwoo stands up in a sudden whim, but almost misses what Seungcheol says about rescuing some stray kids from the front yard.

“Do they belong to this house?” Jeonghan jokes, pointing his thumb over his shoulder and stepping to reveal whoever is trying to pass the threshold.

Completing the set of people expected to arrive at the bungalow, the rest of Seokmin’s friends come inside with graceful and yet concerned steps. The two guys from Wednesday, as well as a third one, are dressed in raincoats over sophisticated black suits and have two bottles of champagne in their possession. It’s so unexpected that Wonwoo doesn’t move, deciding to wait for a better moment to start getting himself drunk.

He really wants to know what is going on.

“I’m suddenly glad we borrowed two bottles from the yacht club kitchen instead of the one Sollie proposed,” the boy that has accused Wonwoo of being a robber just the other day speaks up, matter of factly.

“ _Borrowed?_ ” Jihoon questions quirking a brow in suspicion. “You ever plan on returning it?”

“Don’t be so fucking rude, Jihoon!” Jeonghan calls him out at the same moment that Soonyoung butts in from Jihoon’s side, an empty shot of soju still in hands.

“Jihoonie, why don’t you shut it?!”

“Don’t mind him,” Seungcheol reassures the clueless boys. “Our boy Jihoon is a bit too blunt for most of the time but he means good.”

Jihoon zips up his lips, promising to keep his comments to himself from now on.

“Uh, sorry,” the third guy, who Wonwoo has never seen before, mumbles. He has just gotten undressed of the matching raincoat the three of them wear on top of their suits and proceeds to start loosening the black bow tie around his neck. Wonwoo doesn’t know much about ties, but the thing seems to be wrapped tight and nice. He feels caged only looking at it. “Who are you guys again?”

“They’re our new friends!” Seokmin replies on their behalf, wide smile reaching his eyes, creating lines at the corners. He puts his cup down on the windowsill. “These are Junhui-ssi, Jihoon-ssi, Soonyoung-ssi and Wonwoo-ssi!” he says, punctuating every name by pointing the males in the living room.  

Wonwoo supposes that’s the exact moment Wednesday Guy finally spots him. Close to the door, the taller shifts uncomfortably, offering Wonwoo what can either be a smirk or a grimace. Wonwoo isn’t wearing his glasses and he has such a poor sight at night.

“We know who he is!” the other kid informs with intent and a small, yet clear, wobble in his words, then gives his friend a little bump on his shoulder that doesn’t quite make him loose balance, but sends a message.

Wonwoo remains stoic anyways, not entirely interested neither in the meaning behind the boy’s words nor in the push he has received.

Whether noticing the situation or not, Junhui mumbles out how he thinks he has seen the Wednesday Guys, as well as Joshua, before either at the beach or at the surf shop, and they engage on a brief round of presentations.

Wonwoo sits back down on the sofa, right on top of Junhui’s hand, and postpones his plan of fetching a beer can in the kitchen. He repeats in his head Wednesday boys’ names as soon as he learns them, but the only one that really sticks is ’Mingyu’ _–_ ‘Mingyu-ssi’.

“By the way, whose birthday this is?”

 

 

Wonwoo runs into Mingyu inside the joint kitchen at some point of the night, right after learning about Seokmin’s cupcake recipes. Mingyu has changed his clothes and now looks more casual as he stocks more beer inside the fridge absentmindedly and doesn't seem to acknowledge Wonwoo’s presence at first. So he just risks a greeting.

A pair of eyes lands upon Wonwoo. Mingyu’s sheepish smile appears, but it seems he’s already shying away again, because his fingers twitch around the can he holds.

“Such a cool place. Pretty close to the beach too."

Halloween decor aside, he is positively surprised with the bungalow insides. It's cozy, although rather empty, no extra furniture in sight, but it feels homey somehow, something he doesn't expect much from a place shared by a bunch of surfers. Most of the houses he has ever been inside are either too much or too little, no in between.

“Agreed. I really like it in here. It belonged to my grandparents. Guess I’ve unofficially inherited it after my grandma’s passing.”

The change is immediate. Mingyu knows what he's talking about and he is on his element.

"And yeah, Jungmun is right down the road. You surf there, don’t you?"

He doesn't need to ask how Mingyu knows about this. On Wednesday, the male had claimed to have seen him before, and the rest is just implied.

“Want a tour around the house?” Mingyu asks after a moment, unreadable eyes landing on Wonwoo one more time.

“Sure.”

Mingyu puts two more beers inside the fridge and moves away from the household appliance, leading Wonwoo back to the entrance of the house.

The street is empty again, just Jihoon’s car and Jeonghan's motorcycle parked on the driveway and other seven silent houses nearby. It's a pretty night and there’s a field of stars above their heads, definitely the brightest Wonwoo has seen a fall night get.

"This is the garage."

Mingyu shows the room off, larger than the kitchen itself, but leans against the only empty wall as soon as Wonwoo dashes inside to peek at it better.

"As you can see, no car because we're pretty much broke waiters-slash-bartenders who work for the yacht club, but a pretty decent quiver," he says, pointing out the obvious. Who in their early twenties and sharing an apartment with friends have enough money to also own a car?

"Which one is yours?" Wonwoo is referring to the three shelves attached to the walls, each one sheltering at least two surfboards from different kinds.

"Tallest shelf."

Wonwoo nods, eyes drawn to the three surfboards belonging to Mingyu. "Could've imagined."

"Height?"

"No, style. Your board isn't here though,” Wonwoo observes leaning back on a freezer. “The one you had with you on Wednesday?"

Mingyu shrugs a single shoulder, hand tucked inside the pockets of his pants. "It’s in the backyard. Or in my room. I don't really remember where I’ve left it but it’s somewhere in the house. We'll end up finding it when our tour takes us to my bedroom, anyways."

Wonwoo notices there are at least two ways one can spin Mingyu’s words but he surely hopes he shares his sentiments.

“So, should we go back to our tour now?"

Mingyu offers a hand to Wonwoo and spins around, their hands linking above his shoulder. Wonwoo is led across the living room and into the secluded hallway to the rest of the house. This part remains immaculate and Wonwoo can’t help but wonder which one of the three doors in front of him will lead them to the only bedroom he’s interested in since the beginning of this tour.

"This is Hao and Seok’s room," Mingyu informs matter-of-factly, not really bothering to go in there, but kind of going along with the meticulously planted tour he came up with to break the ice before taking Wonwoo to his room.

With his patience starting to wear thin and for having waited enough, Wonwoo cuts it to the chase and tugs Mingyu by their entwined fingers in the opposite direction.

He jabs his hand on the door handle. “Can I?” Mingyu nods slowly, enticing eyes glued to his face.

The darkness of the hallway is disturbed when Wonwoo pushes the third door and throws himself inside first, leaving Mingyu to fiddle with the lights. It gets particularly noiseless when the door is shut again and in this moment Wonwoo simply knows Mingyu is used to having others bursting inside his room uninvited.

"And this is mine,” he discloses calmly, as if this isn’t the most anticipated location of the entire tour, the Monalisa of The Louvre, and leans backwards against the closed door, hands on his back.

Wonwoo is given time to look around and he calmly takes in the change of surroundings, absorbing the walls, the furniture, and Mingyu’s world as he walks further inside. They have first met days ago, but everything seems to fit seamlessly to the first impression Mingyu has left on him.

“Nice room too,” he compliments, a tad amazed for being in a place he never has before.

Mingyu’s hushed yet strong presence on his back doesn’t go unnoticed as Wonwoo gets acquainted to his surroundings, but he only decides to spin around to discover the reason behind the Mingyu’s silence once he gets to the sole bedroom window.

Mingyu may be taller and potentially stronger, but when he decides to make a move and cease the gap that separates both of them by leaning in to make up for the slight difference in their heights, it’s with a soft and delicate flow. He hover over Wonwoo, watches him with caution, gaze shifting from his eyes to his lips, then repeat.

"Wonwoo-ssi," Mingyu addresses, so close he can smell the sweet scent of champagne in his breath, "there’s something I want to ask you."

"What is it?" he asks and pushes his body up to seal their lips with a soft peck, itching to taste it already. “As long as this isn't your first time with a guy and you want me to top.” He trails away messily in order to hold Mingyu's gaze, but the other chases him away with easiness and raises his hand to hold him by the back of his neck, thumb grazing the short hairs behind his ear.

“You don’t top?” Mingyu asks curiously, but Wonwoo was kidding. He is smart enough to know that sexual awakening is super cool and crucial even.

“I can, of course, but not with you, not now at least. I was just, y’know, relying on the thought of you being a top, wishful thinking if you will.”

"You’re not wrong, I’d rather top, but, fuck, if you were to change your mind and ask me to bottom, anytime! And I’m not a virgin since I was sixteen, but do you want me to go back in time and save my virginity so you can rough the fuck out of me? It’s what gets you going? Want a big ring and to have my last name?" he asks with a smug smile that Wonwoo is so tempted to kiss away. “I’m game. Really, you call it!"

Wonwoo guffaws at that and leans backwards to give him a good look over. “All that? Fuck, I might get cocky. C’mon, ask away.”

“I just want to know if any of the guys you arrived with is your boyfriend or, I dunno, something alike. Think I saw you all over the surf shop guy all night long. Is he the reason why you turned me down earlier in the week?”

Eyes still hooked on Mingyu’s own, he wonders how much of an idiot he takes him for after all, even if the answer is clear as day. Wonwoo may be a self-indulgent asshole when it comes to sex, but he certainly isn’t the type of guy to escape a party to make out with a stranger one door away from his boyfriend. That’s quite an accusation.

Mingyu’s grip tightens and he surprises Wonwoo by pulling his face closer to his. He kisses his doubts away, sucking the tip of his tongue ardently, nibbling at his lips, not giving a single shit and, in overall, making good use of their time together, not letting him go either. Wonwoo hasn’t given his permission for him to do that, but Goddamn, he’s a great kisser.

Wonwoo's hands venture across the expanse of his chest until they reach the hem of his marigold hoodie, clarifying how willing to he is to pull it up, but managing to shove his already triggered lust aside before he can. He pulls away to find a satisfied grin creeping to Mingyu’s face. “I haven’t turned you down, for fucks sake,” he recalls as an attempt to keep his eyes on the prize. Mingyu had written his number in Junhui’s sketchbook and Wonwoo forgotten to rip and keep the sheet, then later completely forgetting to ask for it to his friend. “Cut that. Not my boyfriend, we’re just friends. And don’t you think you should’ve waited for my answer before shoving your tongue between my teeth?!”

Mingyu’s smile doesn’t falter and he leans in to gently gnaw at his bottom lip one more time, pulling it between his teeth and still managing to have a taste of it with his tongue. Wonwoo can’t bring himself to neither pull away nor stop him, waiting for Mingyu to do so. "I should, but you're so fucking gorgeous I wanted to risk at least a kiss before hearing your answer. Y’know, in case it was disappointing. Can’t say I’m a jerk for kissing someone else’s boyfriend if I didn’t know they have a boyfriend in the first place,” he says, words dripping along the skin of his jawline, where he peppers kisses, and Wonwoo lets out a chuckle before tugging him towards himself and against the window with caution.

"Smart guy, know-it-all.” His index slips under the fabric of Mingyu’s hoodie and caresses the skin of his navel. He knows better than to get too flattered by a guy’s lip service. “Are you used to have people dropping to their knees to blow you when you tell them this bullshit or you only make shit up as you go?”

“No.” Mingyu tilts his head to the side. "I was thinking _I_ could be the one offering a blowjob tonight. If it works, I might consider using this as a pick up line from now on,” he says with a dirty edge in his voice and looking as attractive as he did the previous minute with their lips attached.

The atmosphere is thick, heavy with the anticipation of what’s bound to happen in sequence. Only the sight of Mingyu touching his skin with his mouth again has Wonwoo’s entire body jittering. They have just been formally introduced, and yet, he can’t seem to allow the opportunity of hooking up with the waiter to escape.

“So I suppose we’re settled then, I’m doing it?" Mingyu concludes. Wonwoo knows it won’t take long until he is restraining a soft whimper, although exhaling deeply after the air gets caught up in his lungs; that hands will move, caress and grip; tongues will push past lips; fingers will leave behind invisible impressions he’ll feel for hours after they’re done.

“Shit, yes, but I’m definitely returning the favor later.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

On Monday morning, Wonwoo is welcomed by the familiar sounds of muffled talk mixed with the tinkle of dishes as soon as he gets inside the bakery in which he spends most of his weekdays, beginning his daily routine by making his best to bow to regular customers.

Whereas the outside can be compared to a soggy shoe box discarded on the sidewalk of an avenue where other six gorgeous restaurants are located and being most likely not to stand out amongst its competitors, the inside is eminently improved. To the degree of living up to the saying of not judging a book by its cover, the soft pink-salmon paint on the ceiling differs from the white on the front, still present on some of the walls in which neatly framed past newspaper editions hang, shoving all the news featuring the Island’s first bakery onto the faces of whoever tries to discredit the importance of the store to the economy of Southern Jeju.   

Wonwoo finds it pleasing how clean the place is – not only in the overall term, but also in the sense of the disposition in which the furniture is arranged; the counter, the coffee machine, the modern beverage fridge and the round tables don’t fill the ambient neither grant the shop only small, narrow, corridors for people to move around, considering the majority of the customers were born in the 50’s and need proper space to amble from table to table, greeting every islander with whom they’re familiar to.

Jeonghan is already on duty behind the counter. The coffee machine, the motive of many of his complaints to Beomju, is placed right besides one of the beverage’s fridge, and being smacked as Jeonghan’s brows knit together, adding up to the confused expression he has on his face.

“Morning, hyung,” Wonwoo sing songs moving past the counter and straight to the kitchen to fetch inside one of the many short cupboards a clean apron he can use.

With the item in hands, he trudges to the tiny employees’ room, but only to find the door locked, which is new. So new, Wonwoo continues to stand there, facing the door and wondering what he is supposed to do with his sweater.  

It’s when he hears, however still a bit far away, Jeonghan crossing the short length between the two of them with an audible persistence that leaves little to no imagination for him to wonder who is marching his way. Sharing three out of five shifts a week at the bakery with him and being his friend since they were toddlers, Wonwoo would know he is near even with headphones on.

“This is something I thought I'd never say to my baby neighbor, but I’m so relieved you’re here!” Jeonghan only stops walking when he is at arm’s length from Wonwoo’s apron strings. He helps him undress of his sweater and works on the strings to tie it up like he does almost every morning when his co-worker arrives.

Wonwoo turns around and faces him with a critical gaze, navy apron tied up so tight around his waist he might need one of the girls to loosen it up a bit when Jeonghan isn’t looking.

He raises his index finger up in the air to have his point across correctly. “I’m one year younger than you.”

“Whatever. You vanished in thin air all Sunday long! I looked for you everywhere–”

“Except for my room?”

“Jungmun was breaking!” he whines unapologetically. “What were you expecting me to do, knock on your door to drag you out? You always say your bedroom is off limits. See, I’m well-behaved and I do listen to you, contrary to previous and unfair accusations,” Jeonghan uses his ironic tone, the one you only gets schooled on if you have been friends with him for at least ten years.

“Hyung, I had a sore throat,” Wonwoo plainly informs, refusing to tell him the motive of his soreness, and jabs his two hands on the doorknob again, causing the door to shriek and his sweater to drop to the floor. “What’s wrong with this thing? I–"

“Would you just…?” Jeonghan stops him immediately moving to place a hand above his. “Please, let go!” Wonwoo’s arms fall to his sides.

He picks up his sweater from the floor and moves past his friend to stock it below the counter, but the latter gets in his way before he can exit the kitchen and, just as Seungcheol’s absence, this is suspicious.

“I can help you with this,” the older says slowly picking up the garment, as if he’s afraid he’ll be bitten by a wild animal. “Could you clean the tables near the windows? Some of them have just emptied while I was trying to get coffee done!”

Wonwoo holds Jeonghan’s gaze for a split second, but does as he’s told.

He doesn’t notice at first, but when he eventually does, wishes he hadn’t, because he is at least surprised to find out that Mingyu is not only there at the bakery but occupying one of the tables he was told to clean.

Wonwoo dares to look over his shoulder. Jeonghan is watching his downfall from his privileged spot behind the counter, both his thumbs up. He wonders how his friend has found out about him and Mingyu, but again, Jeonghan has always been the best when it comes to playing tricks on his younger friends.

He heaves a sigh and stares at the table, deciding whether to walk up to Mingyu and make a fool out of himself in front of the guy he shamelessly gave head to two nights prior or not. He’s right below one of the three ceiling fans they have in the bakery and his black bangs blows sideways. Mingyu looks nice. His looks alone could make Wonwoo want to blow him again, right now and below the tabletop if he didn’t know better, of course.

It’s not that Wonwoo would rather avoid Mingyu, but after almost forty-eight hours, he has been led to believe their next meeting, if it happened at all, would take a few weeks at least. Saturday night is still fresh in his mind and being forced to confront him in his own workplace will make everything awkward.

Mingyu, who has his arms crossed over the table and has kept busy looking out the window ‘till this moment, takes the decision for both of them and averts his eyes from the window. Their eyes meet and something tingles in Wonwoo’s insides–regret. For not walking away and thus being busted staring, that is.

He is already looking for Mingyu’s crystal ball when he decides to approach his table. “Morning,” he says simplistic when he’s close enough. It lacks _je ne sais quoi_ but it’s everything he’s got.

Mingyu doesn’t respond immediately but his brows shoot up in surprise and his mouth gapes at his presence, informing Wonwoo that they’re both inside the same 13-foot inflatable dinghy adrift on the open sea. The two of them are facing the same fate and if one of them goes down, the other will be following right after.

“Wonwoo-ssi!”

Wonwoo nods with a tight-lipped smile, so unsure of how to act around him. It’s his only response as he stretches a hand to pick up the dishes and empty paper cups off Mingyu’s table. The male moves first and faster to help him out and grabs the cups himself to hand to him. Wonwoo thanks him in silence and wonders if the male is aware of how nice he’s being right now.

“For someone who claims not being a weirdo, you have been crossing my way too much,” he mumbles out and receives a sympathetic smile from Mingyu. He feels the male getting relaxed on his company.

“Not really.” His shoulders drop and he rears back on his seat. “I came with Seokmin. On Saturday night Seungcheol-ssi said Seok should come to try out a position as a junior baker. They’re in the back with your manager.” And adds, “interview stuff.”

Wonwoo is remembered of his struggle on opening the employee’s room door. Locked. Beomju had used the room to meet with bakery suppliers before and he should have seen it coming.

“Oh. Makes sense actually! I can only cook enough to live by and Jihyo and Jeongyeon usually get overloaded when we have many customers. Having another person around will be useful.” He looks down to the pair of empty cups and dishes on his hands and then to the last bite of what looks like injeolmi toast on the table. “You enjoyed your food?”

“Yes! The toast is great and so was everything else, actually. Employees aren’t bad either.” Mingyu offers a sweet smile that isn’t quite a smirk but is dangerously close to one.

“Finish your toast, Mingyu-ssi,” Wonwoo advises after a breathless giggle that can’t be bottled, “and let me know if you need anything else while you’re round.”

He fixes the dishes on his grip, bows his head in a polite farewell and walks over to the kitchen casually. Jeonghan is already on his neck when Wonwoo is still managing to drop the dishes inside the large steel sink.

“You should consider leaving me alone after the little shenanigan you just pulled, hyung,” he adverts, but there’s no ounce of bad blood in his voice. Jeonghan scoffs in protest and dodges the elbow the younger tries to press on his ribs. “What have I even done for you to do me dirty like this?”

“Our baby sisters have the same age! The sympathy was instant and you even fucked each other’s brains, so it has to mean he isn’t bad news! Kid rubs me the right way!”

“Sucked, we sucked–” his attempt of correcting Jeonghan is interrupted by the door to the employee’s room being pulled open to reveal Seungcheol and Beomju. Seokmin walks out and bows all the way down out of the kitchen hearing Wonwoo and Jeonghan’s wishes of good luck. The older scurries inside the room, forgetting about Wonwoo and his position operating the cash register right away. All the later hears is his childhood’s friend asking Beomju if Seokmin made it.

Wonwoo leaves the kitchen in sequence, meaning to clean the rest of the tables – if there are any at all – but changes his course as he spots Mingyu bent over the counter, the only dish left of his breakfast now placed on the countertop, empty now. Seokmin is apparently out the entrance door already.

Mingyu doesn’t allow him to inform he could have left already, no need for him to wait for someone at the counter to hand his dish at all. He says, “you said I could look for you in case I needed anything else.” Wonwoo watches him curiously and through a small, curious frown. “I could use learning at what time your shift ends.”

He hums in acknowledgment. His shifts have been varying this fall because he has worked overtime almost all of his days. Mingyu still needs an answer though.

“Around seven, lately. If all goes well.” Wonwoo shrugs a single shoulder helplessly. “Jeonghan-hyung has a bad habit of holding everyone back from leaving on time.”

They don’t break eye contact just yet.

“’K.” Mingyu nods, not bothering to pretend he doesn’t think this is amusing as hell. A full smirk blooms on his pretty lips like puschkinias do too as soon as the snow has melt completely in March. “See you.”

He waits for Mingyu to go outside before heading to an empty table near the entrance. Adding dishes to the pile on his arms, Wonwoo congratulates himself for escaping uninjured from this shipwreck of an encounter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Later, when Wonwoo is all packed up to leave the bakery at the end of his shift and ready to call it a day, he learns that shocking him with spontaneous outbursts is what Mingyu strives for. He doesn't seem quite interested in brushing out of his mind thoughts of previous nights. 

Wonwoo calls his name hesitantly after spotting the waiter just outside the door of the bakery, wet hair sticking to his forehead. Save for the staff, the place is already empty and it’s unlikely Mingyu is just hanging there on the sidewalk.

Mingyu's head snaps up from his phone screen, blue-ish light shining on the helpless grin that stretches his lips for Wonwoo. He carries a surfboard under his arms, but the nose is missing and the leash seems to have broken with the strength of a particularly rough wave.

At least this isn’t his favorite, Wonwoo knows now. Mingyu is lucky.

"Rough afternoon?"

"So to speak! Guess I've underestimated the swell. The nose hit the reef and now it seems I’ve lost a surfboard."

"As expected from a _haole_!" Wonwoo discloses, grinning helplessly. He trudges over to Mingyu and thrust his hand forward, palm up. Mingyu trusts his phone in his hand. “You need Wen Junhui’s number! I’m not joking. Text him because he knows everything that is to be known about boards and he can help you with your deck or at least draw you something new!”

Wonwoo types Junhui’s number on Mingyu’s phone and returns the device when he is finished. Mingyu refrains from pocketing it in his clothes. “Is that your way of blowing me off?” he asks.

"Not like that. I just wasn’t expecting you to come back, it’s all!”

"You said you got out at seven, right? Also, Jeonghan-ssi just left and I figured it was worth the wait," Mingyu admits with unyielding faith.

Wonwoo doesn’t think he’s worth the chase, really.

“Has hyung seen you?”

“Probably.” Mingyu’s brows shoot up. “Was I supposed to hide from him?”

Wonwoo worries about what Jeonghan will come up with now he knows Mingyu had been waiting for him, but tries not to startle the waiter. He’s strangely satisfied with his presence and doesn’t want blow it.

“No, no!”

“For someone who doesn’t have a boyfriend you sure behave kind of suspiciously.”

“I wouldn't date Jeonghan-hyung. Ever.” He rolls his eyes and folds his arms over his chest. “You’re here, so, are you off tonight then?"

"Something like it. I’ve done a bit of everything today. Worked, went surfing and I'm here now. But, yes, as you said yourself, off _tonight._ How about you? You free now then?"

"Yes,” Wonwoo says all jittery, “do you want to go hang out somewhere?”

 

They decide to go to the bungalow after Mingyu mentions they would be by themselves for at least a few hours. Inside, Mingyu promises to be quick to change his clothes and Wonwoo finds out that there isn't much to do but wait for his return sat cross-legged on the sofa. This isn't how Wonwoo had expected his uneventful Monday to end in the morning when he was getting ready to work, but either way he isn't ashamed in the slightest at how quick things move under the two-minutes mark and they end up inside the bedroom making out as desperate teenagers.

Differently from Saturday night, they're in no mood to play around when Wonwoo rushes Mingyu to bed and straddles his hips immediately to attack his lips. Mingyu has amazing head game, and if the way the male orgasmed on Saturday whilst Wonwoo returned him the favor by showing off his skills is any indication of it, he knows he isn’t bad at it either, but the promise of doing something more than a rushed blowie and venturing themselves further this time lingers between them as a silent agreement.

Mingyu has a hand on the small of the Wonwoo’s back, bringing him closer to his own body and the latter licks the salt off of his skin easily, tongue lapping below his ear, and little pants escape Mingyu’s parted lips each time Wonwoo’s tongue do the way he likes it. His skin isn’t warm at the touch of lips on his neck, but hot, burning up like he has the fever.

Grinding down on his erection with a leg on each side of his lap, Wonwoo brushes a hand over the bare and barely damp chest and stomach, fingertips trailing down the soft, barely there lines of muscles. Mingyu moves to grip at the sides of his hips and press him down so he is bucking upwards as his erection meets his butt halfway, causing the friction to become way more interesting. The idea of riding Mingyu one of these days crosses Wonwoo’s mind briefly – he has never done it before with any other partner, but hell if this doesn’t sound like an appealing idea now.

“Off.”

The fabric of Wonwoo’s shirt bundles inside of Mingyu’s fist and the older reluctantly withdraws to oblige, gripping at the hem to tug it over his head with his help. Wonwoo had enjoyed himself abusing the skin of Mingyu’s neck with his sloppy and passionate kisses for the past minutes he watched him shivering beautifully to his touch, having become completely distracted at the sensations both of them were sharing.

Mingyu switches their positions by coaxing Wonwoo to climb off his lap and rolling him on his back in a swift move to raise a bold knee to press against his erection. “Am I going too fast?" the other male asks close to his face, but continues to work his knee between Wonwoo’s legs in long, soft moves.

  
"Yes," Wonwoo confesses with a gasp. "I like fast though. I really, really like fast." As his half-lidded, bedroom eyes look up to Mingyu, his bottom lip is sucked inside his own mouth, Wonwoo knows he gets what he means.

  
"I’ll remember that next time.”

  
At Mingyu’s implication, Wonwoo sufficiently aroused to notice how it doesn't feel like the first time they actually go to bed together. The thrill of discovering new lands it’s definitely there, however the touch of their fleshes fails to feel foreign. Wonwoo could definitely experience it again. Mingyu is completely right–it doesn’t feel much like the final time either.

The bold knee Mingyu uses to part Wonwoo’s legs further apart and press his penis with it tells him they should speed things up, and the eagerness in which the younger dives down to kiss along his jutted collarbones and chest, nipping at his nipples and eliciting a quiet whimper from him, whose fingers work fast and hook on the waistband of Mingyu’s sweats to try and tug them down closes the deal.

Mingyu sucks on his right nipple one more time and moves to sit on the edge of the bed to strip off of his pants and boxers, giving Wonwoo the opportunity to do the same, and he is soon wiggling his pants and underwear past his hips until they’re both completely bare.

Mingyu is healthy and he’s got that surfer body type that is pleasing to the eyes. Neither toned or lanky, but extremely attractive in a natural way that would have made Wonwoo self-conscious for being so exposed and naked before him, if it wasn’t for Mingyu’s decision to blanket his figure on the bed and stretch an arm over the first drawer of his nightstand, erection rubbing accidentally on Wonwoo’s hipbone and clearing his mind from everything else.

Wonwoo feels the skin of both their stomachs heat up to the touch and hurries up to press his cold palm on Mingyu’s sides to ease the burning sensation. The younger shudders on top of him and Wonwoo smirks playfully, busying himself in nibbling at the lobe of his ear, although already considering invading his mouth with his tongue and other things he can’t even start to consider clearly.

“Let me know if you feel uncomfortable,” Mingyu says leaving the drawer open but kneeling once again and nearly immediately to rip the condom wrapper open with his sharp canines.

Wonwoo hasn’t planned to beg this soon, but if this makes Mingyu hurry things up, then he can’t bring himself to care.

"Please, just do it already. Please, Mingyu.”

There’s a pause, so short it doesn’t feel real, but within this small moment, Wonwoo is afraid he said the wrong thing. Preferring not to set boundaries just yet because he’d rather not limit himself to vanilla sex, he just meant to encourage Mingyu to show him what you got. He holds his breath, because of how pitiful would be wasting this night by turning everything awkward.

“Don’t do it like that,” Mingyu warns retrieving the package from his teeth, eyes darkening.

“Do what?” he asks genuinely curious and sucks his own bottom lip inside his mouth to conceal a whimper.

“You clearly have no idea how good you sound when you beg like that. Coulda make me come with this only and that would be kind of embarrassing. I’m trying to impress, y’know?”

Wonwoo lets out a breathy laugh at the confession and flops his head back on the pillow. Mingyu follows him and kisses his smile away for the longest time, only drawing backwards again to prepare Wonwoo with lube-coated fingers.

It burns, but Mingyu is delicate enough to ease Wonwoo’s discomfort without the latter even finding the necessity of uttering words. They make out – slow and hot kisses – and Mingyu compliments him and how good he is taking his fingers. He swallows not only Wonwoo’s subtle moan as well as the hiss that tries to escape his lips when he’s taken by surprise by a third finger being added inside.

Mingyu persuades Wonwoo to pull back so he can kneel on bed again and roll the condom on, holding Wonwoo’s gaze with a mix of darkness and confidence that somehow complements the simple sweetness of his eyes. The headlight of a car crossing the street reflects inside the bedroom, painting the walls white for a split moment and revealing his nakedness to his eyes.

Wonwoo wants Mingyu inside him as soon as possible.

He reaches a hand up to cup his jaw and bring him closer, the latter soon agreeing to be hauled and leaning down to kiss him, other hand slowly driving his cock between his legs and inside his body in sequence.

Mingyu bottoms out slowly, giving Wonwoo time to adapt, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth to soothe and distract him at first, and only works his way up when he is sure that Wonwoo can tolerate the self-imposed rhythm.

Wonwoo’s grasp around Mingyu’s neck and on his damp hair gets stronger, sending signals to his partner, who obliges quietly however with sheer delight, and starts rutting against him faster and deeper, dark flush creeping onto both males’ faces.

Wonwoo is at a loss of words when Mingyu finds his prostate, only a single and dragged moan escaping his lips. At that, he shuts his eyes and feels his body being slightly raised from the mattress by a bruising hold on the small of his back. Wonwoo isn’t sure what Mingyu is trying to convey with that, but, when he is maneuvered back down again, hears the male whisper something along the word ‘better’. He agrees a hundred percent, because now Mingyu is hitting him at the right place in every ruthless pound, and, to top it off, starts running his thumb over the slit of his cock, milking pre-come and sliding it up and down his length.

His hands let go of Mingyu’s neck and hair and move hurriedly to hold onto the bedsheets. He feels the need to punch Mingyu, straight on the face or maybe on his ribs. For being, you know, so _precise_. He’s nailing it, both figurative and literally.

Mingyu continues pinning him down on the mattress, sinking into Wonwoo with all his strength, but nearing the point of letting go, the fact he might end up with bruises on his hipbones in the following morning slips from the latter’s mind rapidly. Wonwoo is close, almost there. There are beads of sweat on his hairline and he claws even tighter at the sheets, but the pressure building up in his lower abdomen tells him he won’t have to hold onto the bedding for long.

“Yes–“ he tries to have his point across, even though he doesn’t has to. Mingyu knows exactly what he’s doing as he flicks his wrist one more time.   

His orgasm hits him with the intensity of a tidal wave which only purpose is to arrive to the sand where it will eventually dismantle in thick layers of whitewater. It rivals the tubes at the Pipeline and instantly sweeps away everything that may represent an obstacle to the trajectory towards its intended destination without any resistance. It washes Wonwoo’s being mercilessly and unforgivingly, and everything goes quiet for the shortest second. His fingertips, now clawing desperately at Mingyu's skin instead of the sheets, as well as his nose, tingle. His mind goes blank. The prickling sensation spreading all over his body doesn't last long, but it's sufficient to have him collapsing on bed and wishing to remain there until further notice.

Mingyu leans in again, biceps flexing as he balances his weight over Wonwoo, careful not to pin him to the mattress again but brackets him in a cocoon. The kind-eyed male grants him the precious chance to breathe and gently nuzzles at his nose with his own, checking on him in the softest manner.

Wonwoo wants to assure him he's ok, great even, but he is too immersed in his post-orgasm high, and therefore settles for nodding and slowly rolling his hips before it starts to sting, encouraging Mingyu to chase his own climax.

 

 

 

 

 

After sex mornings are hardly ever fun. The dreadful ritual of getting up from a bed so ever slowly his bedmate won't stir in their sleep, picking up his last night clothes from where they pile on the floor and sneaking off the bedroom, hoping the entrance door is unlocked or the keys are at least nearby and the walk of shame itself. Yes, after sex mornings aren’t fun and Wonwoo absolutely despises no fun sex, period.

This being stated, he doesn’t comprehend why and, even worse, how he did it. _How_ he allowed himself to tire his body and mind to the point of drifting to sleep in a bed that doesn’t belong to him for the entire night. The chill breeze that comes inside the room through the cracks of a shut window hits his spine as he lies belly down tells him that it’s still early in the morning, but the sky isn’t dark anymore. He’s only an article of clothing short from being completely bare, which sounds like a bad idea for a November morning, and there’s a green blanket and at least two others that are definitely bundling around his legs. He wants to stay in bed more than anything even though he is wrong for staying too long, for falling asleep at all.

Rolling on his back, he still feels the skin of his hips and waist a bit sore from his night; his legs were still feeble when they were done. On the opposite side of the bed, Mingyu’s is lying on his stomach, left leg kicking upwards and flexed at the knee; his dark hair covers his eyes nearly and an arm is raised to pillow his head, the other aligned with his body.

The same green duvet pools around his waist, protecting him from showing too much skin, but it doesn’t stop Wonwoo from groaning at the sight, a frustrated noise bubbling at the back of his throat.

The expanse of his back looks tempting in broad daylight with all that bronze skin exposed, something Wonwoo hasn’t witnessed yet, but he also has a few scratches on his skin, not deep enough to leave scars, but they're so many. Wonwoo hadn’t noticed them on Saturday night because they have remained mostly dressed, and he can’t help but wonder how often the boy would fall down from his skateboard and be dragged on the asphalt.

Gathering the courage to get up from the warm and comfortable bed, he sits on the mattress with caution, feet down and trying the hardest not to elicit any floorboard to creak under his weight as he pushes himself up. He stretches his arms behind his back silently, staring out the window to pick up the surroundings.

There are toads croaking and they’re too early in the year. The backyard is covered with sallow grass and a crisp and sudden gust of wind blows the auburn leaves of a nearby tree on the lawn. He wonders how green it must look during spring. Perhaps similar to the wall of green tea plantations near the shore.

Sliding both his long sleeved shirt and sweater down his arms and shoulders first and head later, and peeking one last time through the window without holding grudges, he feels tempted to discover all the features the bungalow presents as the seasons pass by. Life feels realer here, far from the mansions in which he and his friends have grown up.  

“Sorry, Wonwoo-ssi.”

Seokmin bows apologetically when they bump on the hallway to the living room. He bows too, plan of leaving without being acknowledged flying out the bungalow’s windows. Seokmin is not only Mingyu’s housemate as well as his new co-worker, even though the kindhearted guy doesn’t know he got in yet. It gets embarrassing real quick.

“Guests first!” the younger gestures to the bathroom door, but Wonwoo shakes his head, feeling his cheeks heating up.

“I’ll–I’m leaving, don’t worry.”

With that, the boy nods and moves inside, shutting the door after him. Wonwoo gives him privacy and ambles towards the next room. Minghao is lying on his back on the sofa, phone in hands as he types the buttons rapidly. Wonwoo checks the TV; a morning cooking show is being aired. He is still on time for his shift.

"One out of two: either you left Gyu’s room or you broke in. And if that’s the case, then maybe you should start running because Seokmin keeps a baseball bat under his bed and he’s great at it."

Wonwoo can definitely see it, the familiar confidence exhaling from Minghao. His skinny and shorter figure added to his doe-eyes can be tricky at first glance, but Wonwoo heard it early in his tone of voice how strong willed he probably can be sometimes.

The younger lifts his eyes from his phone with a tranquil expression and Wonwoo considers this a sign that he is not being beaten to death with a bat in the near future.

“Hey,” he greets, itching to get the hell out of there.

Minghao lets his phone drop from his hands on his stomach and raises his arms up high to stretch. He chuckles at Wonwoo’s embarrassment. “Sorry. No need to explain anything. I was just kidding.”

“No problem. Can you tell me the time?” Wonwoo asks upon memory that his phone is probably dead in his back pocket.

“Eight-forty-seven.”

He’s still on time but he can’t have the luxury of waiting for the intercity bus. Beomju isn’t one to worry too much with late employees, but Wonwoo has been saving all of his hours for spring and summer, when he’ll need as time as possible to go surfing.

“Hey, Mingyu owns a skateboard right? Will he get mad at me if I take his board so I can get to work on time?”

“Do you plan on sleeping with him again?”

“Does that make a difference?”

“None. I’m just planning to drop by the convenience store later and I wanna know if I should buy earmuffs for when you spend the night.”

Maybe Wonwoo should take this as enough embarrassment and just go, but he feels like he needs clarifying the misunderstanding.

“I don’t think I was being this loud.”

“Not you. The floorboards,” he says, “they’re creaky and I have sensitive ears. Then? Will you come back?”

Wonwoo hears the sound of the toilet being flushed and pushes his body from the passageway. Isn’t a hard answer, to be honest. The outcomes of the night when they blended two groups together had been surprisingly positive.

“It can happen.”

“Noted. Go ahead and take it. I’ll let him know,” Minghao encourages leniently and returns to his phone as the ring of an incoming message is heard.

 

 

 

Wonwoo hasn't expected to be so affected by the silent presence of another person’s belonging in his possession. Even when he is in the kitchen eating one (or three!) ham sandwich for lunch or behind the counter, the thing haunts him like a phantom, drawing his attention whenever its wheels hit the flooring of the employees' room even when the room it’s clearly empty, having slipped to the floor by its own will, or when the girls mess with it, taking pics of one another on top of the skateboard and then falling in a fit of laughter.

This is the sole reason why, after his shift is over, he admits defeat and carries the longboard out of the store to take the bus to his own neighborhood, meaning to return it to its rightful owner where he hopes he will be found.

Granted, Wonwoo has never noticed before how Pharaonic the yacht club looks. Conference rooms, a restaurant and three bars, an indoor swimming pool with panoramic view to the sea and two ballrooms, one of them even nestling a stage for music attractions. It's proportionally too much for such a small portion of the population, but he guesses that’s exactly what attracts the loaded troop that seem to have come out from a Lana Del Rey song and straight to the South side — his and Soonyoung's family included.

Perhaps the two of them have always been better off that crowd; learning as kids that they’d rather play in the beach than at the yacht club’s pool had spared both from the hassle of wrestling for space the aged citizens who took aqua aerobics classes on Saturday mornings.

He's only noticing the structures now, seeing Mingyu organize the tableware on top of a round table. It can sound like nothing important, and Wonwoo had even been behind the counter on a few (two, if he remembers correctly) of the three opportunities in which they had met, but it's clear they're going through opposite struggles and on opposite sides.

"I suddenly feel underdressed," he says, “I should have changed before coming over.”

The look of surprise in Mingyu's face doesn't fade until Wonwoo's closer and only the round table covered in a fancy linen tablecloth separates them. 

"Your co-worker Amber told me you'd be here," he clarifies in a low, somewhat hesitating voice, trying to ease the evident question mark flashing above Mingyu's head. "I'm sorry for taking your longboard with me this morning. I was running late, and…” 

 _I don't have your number,_ dies down in his lips. He doesn't want it to sound like a complaint instead of a statement.

“Anyways..."

"I didn't even know people could come in dressed like this,” he joins on the fun with smugness, chin sticking up to point at his clothes.

Wonwoo's dressed in jeans and and long sleeves hidden by his sweater, just like yesterday. Not his best clothes, he supposes, but perfect for a work day in which he'll end up reeking of sugar, cinnamon and flour in the end. He looks down to his feet, to where the edge of the longboard's deck is pressing his tiptoes tightly. None of his tennis shoes are in their cleanest state and this usually bothers his mother until she is threatening him to dump them inside the washing machine.

"Guess it depends on whom," he discloses mindlessly and the surprise makes a comeback to Mingyu's face. Being a member of this club can only mean he's loaded. That's what it means in the Southern side of Jeju, at least.

"Wait, Wonwoo-ssi, are you...?" Mingyu decides to spare him and doesn't finish his question. 

And it's great that he does that, because Wonwoo picks up from where he stopped and tells him that his parents are quite a boujee duo before Mingyu wrongly deduces that he’s adept of futile activities and wastes free time window shopping in order to go around town swanking about his family’s money.

Wonwoo has ceaselessly avoided having his name connected to his parents' money, not for being embarrassed for growing up in a fairly wealthy family, but rather for holding no desire for this to become the epitome of his existence or what he’s exclusively known for.

"I meant to say you could have it so you didn't have to go home walking or wait for the bus because I could always drop by another time, but now I assume you don’t live far from here.”

He wiggles his head tiredly. "Right again. Where should I leave it?" he finally asks, raising the longboard in his hands.

Mingyu stretches his hands out. "Here. I'll have a break in five so I guess I can sneak it through the kitchen."

"Right." He hands it to Mingyu and watches the boy hide it under the table in between them. The table cloth almost reaches the floor; he can't see anything under it. "Thanks for lending it to me. Even if I have basically stolen it. Not my most selfless moment if you ask me," he babbles thoughtfully through flushed brows.

"It's all good. Hao explained it to me when I woke up." Upon the mention of Mingyu waking up, he remembers how awkward it's supposed to be between the two of them due to him leaving without a word — no note, no goodbye. "If he wasn’t there to explain me why you took it, I woulda thought you did it as a demand for reparations for an awful night,” the taller jokes, Wonwoo's furtive escape implied.

 _Your dick did great!_ he feels the urge to assure, but decides against it. Hinting at the transcendental sexual experience they shared the night before would be a relief to the man standing before him, but ruin what's left of Wonwoo's dignity. Terrified it'll eventually run out, he’d rather ration it by avoiding humiliating situations at all costs.

Therefore, he settles for answering, "no, no need for reparations, seriously. I had a good time. We felt this—I did. Did you?"

"Uh, I felt that, of course. Definitely," he muses, nodding. Mingyu is so tall and attractive; he’s also incredibly confident in bed. He doesn’t strike Wonwoo as someone who needs validation whatsoever. "I'll try to sneak it inside the kitchen now, but I guess we'll see each other at Jihoon-ssi's moving."

"When did they dragged you into this too?" he asks, but isn't surprised. Soonyoung has always been good in befriending people and including them in every little aspect of his life. Soonyoung is a people's person, has always been.

"At the party I guess? I don’t really know, Seok just said we’re supposed to drop by. Is that bad?" His brows furrow cutely. "Are his stuff heavy? Or they’re too many?"

"Not really. He doesn't own that much stuff to start with and this sounds as Soonyoung's doing. He's always up for a party. The most you're probably helping with is labelling Jihoon's Cola bottles before they go to the fridge. I bet this won't stop Soonyoungie and Juni from drinking it, but he'll definitely try to draw a line and keep things civil."

Mingyu huffs out an amused laughter and scratches at the back of his neck. "Maybe I should give him some tips. Been living with Hao and Seok for months now."

"That would be cool." Wonwoo chuckles and takes that as a cue to leave. "Guess we'll catch up later in the week then."

"Sure."

"See you, Mingyu-yah."

Wonwoo leaves the club a tad surer that living in the Island is all about bumping into something incredible and unexpected. Sometimes, it's not even something, but someone.

There's greatness in Jeju.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

On Saturday 17th, a legendary swell happens. As to herald the start of winter, the larger and consistent set of waves start in the Northwest and stretches along a vast portion of the shore – West, Southwest and finally South – for over three hours and sets the considerably small surf community at the Island in a frenzy induced state. It’s the last surfable swell before the fall ends, and the news spread like an offshore rainstorm showering the sea from above, droplets the size of marbles fusing with the salty water.

“I think it’s breaking,” Jihoon says with a bored tone which the sole purpose is to discourage his friends from leaving the warm apartment, phone in hands. The water is nearing below zero degrees and that’s how you get yourself killed. Jihoon may seem like the kind of guy to not worry in excess about the well-being of his friends, but he doesn’t want them to actually die. He’d feel lonely and have to roll his blunts all by himself and God knows his soft hands aren’t made for such task. He’d also have to pay the rent all by himself.

Soonyoung, Jihoon and Junhui live in a red bricks building at the sketchiest part of town, fifth floor. The walls are so thin that certain nights you can hear the couple living next door going for it, but Wonwoo’s lucky he can sleep through the moans and banging of the headboard on the wall whenever he’s spending the night. In fact, he has grown to enjoy the noise of the bustling building, his own house being too quiet for his liking.

Houses need people in order to be called homes. Even if Jihoon’s stuff remains inside boxes piling up in almost each corner of the apartment, as if the coin hasn’t dropped yet and he'll get back to his best judgement and notice that moving in with Junhui and Soonyoung was a mistake, the house is more welcoming than Wonwoo’s.

“The water’s probably grubby from the runoff though.”

Outside, the sky is already dark and the streetlights flicker in a haunting rhythm. There's no one in the one-way-out street and every single window in the building is shut. Albeit it may snow in the upcoming days, there’s no sight of rain, and therefore, the water being grubby from a runoff it’s quite unlikely. Sometimes Jihoon will come up with unrealistic facts just to have things his way.

“I don’t think the water is grubby at all,” Wonwoo says from the sofa in which he has been slouched for the past two hours and Jihoon immediately bristles at that. “I’d rather stay inside eating though,” he discloses sending an intentional look to Junhui, who is sitting by his side and has just managed to mix his instant noodles in his cup with his chopsticks.

The male sighs and gives in. The other hums in appreciation with a full mouth.

“You can’t come round any time you don’t feel like cooking,” he says, but feeds Wonwoo again and even swipes his thumb at the corner of his lips to wipe a bead of the artificial seasoned sauce off.

“Move in or get the fuck out.” From the floor, Jihoon tugs Wonwoo’s foot, begging his friend to choose the first option, but he pulls his foot back from his friend’s grasp after two tries. “’M returning you to your parents then.”

“You can’t. They haven't been home for a week. They're in Seoul."

Soonyoung comes out the kitchen in this exactly moment, hands coated in detergent foam after dealing with three days-worth of dishes piling up in the sink.

“Are they?"

Just like legendary swells happening during the last days of fall, when only few surfers are willing to risk getting hypothermia in order to ride them, Wonwoo’s parents being away is hardly news. From time to time they would travel to the continent, either because of work or to have some change in the air.

"Uhum. They're spending Christmas and New Years with my brother and then helping him to find a place in the city."

"I thought he was returning after he was done with boarding school,” Jihoon says and rests his chin on Junhui’s right thigh.

"I thought so too, but he’s graduating a year earlier in less than two months and they’re sure he’s getting in one of those pompous universities after doing well on his National exam, so they’re starting to look out for a place he can live. Guess my parents are spending the month away and I’m spending the holidays in my grandparents’ place."

"Let me guess, they didn’t invite you to this trip!"

Wonwoo had enjoyed visiting the capital during their first years of life, when he would travel with his family to hotels located in the middle of the city. Then, his interest waned and their family trips would easily manage to get on his nerves at any time of the year, because the city was too crowded, claustrophobic, the honks of vehicles were too loud, and none of that ever matched with what he wanted for the rest of his life.

"I have my shifts at the bakery and visiting the same place over and over again gets old. They stopped asking after some time.”

"Does this bother you?" Junhui insists in a heartfelt attempt of not allowing him to feel bad about it or the apartment to fall into a somewhat awkward silence.

It hadn’t been difficult to get used to Junhui’s quite unique persona. Sometimes, he can still see the concerned kid he used to be playing hide and seek behind his now broad shoulders.

Wonwoo’s eyes land on silly Junhui–after so many years of friendship, he should’ve known by now that no silence will ever be sufficient to make things awkward between them.

"Not really, isn’t something I fret too much.” He shrugs in the awkward position and sweeps his hair from where they prickle his eyes behind his spectacles. “My brother couldn’t come to Jeju because he has a lot to handle there and he’s still a baby so he just needed them, I suppose. They know I don’t ask for much. Give me eight months of sun, a trustworthy weather forecast and a beach and I'll be satisfied. Funny, I guess that’s what worries them the most. He is starting school soon and we all know he'll do well, so I guess that's pretty much how my parents wanted my life to go, but I don’t know what’s so wrong in adopting a simpler lifestyle, waking up every morning to a 9 to 5 that will give me plenty of time to surf."

"Realistically, nothing,” Soonyoung offers, “nothing wrong with it. Our families are just pissed because we’re not typical guys our age and don’t focus on becoming what they have dreamt for us. How shallow is pursuing the same lifestyle of a million others? What are they competing for, after all? That’s madness.”

“They really expect us to fall in line without any resistance,” Junhui adds.

Jihoon breathes deeply. “You really know you’re at the peak of your life when Soonyoung’s and Junhui’s words make total sense and you start to consider dropping out of school.”

“You’re always considering dropping out of school,” Junhui points out. “There isn’t a day you haven’t mentioned dropping out. Seriously.”

“Not saying you should actually leave school, but just reminding you you’re not beholden to anyone. Some parents use higher education to, as Juni said, make you fall in line. School isn’t just school anymore, but a corporation,” Soonyoung says, adding fuel to the fire. “Stay woke.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. He does agree with a few things that have been said, but Jihoon doesn’t need to get even less motivated.

“Just think for yourself. Now you got in, you should finish your course, as stupid and useless Business may be. We didn’t even try to get in school and that’s why it’s different and our parents judge us.”

Jihoon grabs his foot again, harsher this time even if he nods sympathetic. Just as Junhui doesn’t do awkward silences, Jihoon doesn’t do softness.

Wonwoo presses a foot to Jihoon’s shoulder to push him on his butt to the floor. "I don't need your pity!"

"It's not even pity. I'm just trying to be a decent human being!"

“Well, stop it then! It’s plain weird and totally out of character! Too obvious! It fucks with my head when you act nice!”

“You’re one hell of an asshole, Woo!” Jihoon spits.

The mood is lighter again, as it should when it comes to the four of them.

"Listen, are they really expending the month away?"

The fact the three of them stop bickering to stare at Soonyoung makes it even clearer that he carries this magnetic feeling within him and commands the room. That's also why, Wonwoo notices now, they'll usually find themselves agreeing to whatever he comes up with. Wonwoo doesn't even doubts that in ten years they might as well be living in Italy, accordingly to Soonyoung's plan.

"That's what they said.”

"We should make something in your house tomorrow! Have pizza or whatever, call the others too. We can make mean drinks with your dad’s stash.”

Wonwoo whirls a lose strand at the hole on his jeans pants around his index finger absently. It’s not like they haven’t done it before or if his dad would mind having his adult son drinking his stuff.

"I guess. But you’re staying the night to help me clean.”

“Deal! But for now, the waves won’t be surfed by itself! Surf’s up!" he shouts and marches inside the bedroom to set his garments aside, much to Jihoon’s distaste.

 

 

With work getting more mechanical each day and surfing being scratched from their list due to the awful weather and lack of waves, Wonwoo hadn't seen Mingyu the entire week and neither  gotten together, just the two of them, after their meeting at the yacht club. They had seen each other in other few occasions, including Jihoon’s moving, but hadn’t really gotten around talking much with each other during it.

Wonwoo can’t say he has put more effort than the usual to engage in a conversation of sorts with the other, though. Mingyu got his jokes and sense of humor more than the friends he knew for more than a decade and they would eventually bicker about shitty subjects, but that’s about it. They haven’t crossed the boundaries of superficial talk and gotten to know each other better even if they had been physically intimate two times prior to this day.

In a little more than a month, Mingyu had befriended his friends and sometimes they would even hang out in the same group even when Wonwoo wasn’t around. Hence, unlike the first times they had met, Wonwoo isn’t surprised when he learns that Mingyu and his friends are part of the _others_ aforementioned by Soonyoung. Having then walking inside his house, making a fuss and being introduced to both Chan and Seungkwan seems like something inevitable considering how well things have gone amongst both groups of friends.

“Woah!” Seokmin gasps, mouth hanging open in a comical way as he stares out the open wall. “God fuck, now I get a hundred percent what that song meant with ‘I’m a bad motherfucker in the room; I feel like Gucci’.”

The wall that offers a panoramic view to the backyard is usually covered by long blinds that reach the floor, but Soonyoung has made sure to open them upon their arrival, claiming the house is too eerie for his liking. The solar house usually evokes a more welcoming and homelike feeling during spring and summer, when the natural lightning comes inside and Wonwoo reads his books for days to no end whilst sprawled on the mat, sun filtering through the windowpane and granting his skin with much enjoyed warmth on sunny days.  

Wonwoo snorts quietly and welcomes them silently, standing close to the large door with their coats and jackets in his hands. His gaze meets Mingyu’s and they hold one on another after the younger finishes admiring the dimensions of the spacious living room.

“You haven’t even seen his father’s liquor cabinet yet. We saved the rest for last, believe me.” Grabbing both Mingyu and Seokmin by the shoulders, Jihoon guides them to the back of the living room, where a fancy and nearly untouched cabinet filled with multiple bottles of brands that Wonwoo can’t even pronounce the names of stands.

For all his work as a bartender at the yacht club, Minghao collects all the bottles he needs and heads to the kitchen to prepare drinks that he promises that’ll come out perfectly drinkable once he’s done with them. Hansol follows to offer his help, because they never seem to be more than two meters apart from each other, and the others settle either on the tuxedo sofas or on the floor to pass the time with the beer bottles that they have bought on their way to the house.  

"Never have I ever kissed someone of the same gender," Wonwoo prompts after sometime after they have been playing Never Have I Ever already and he feels like choosing an easy one so he can finish his bottle of beer before it gets flat.

During the first twenty minutes, the prompts have remained pretty much tame for most of the game as an incentive to get all of them to drink after each question. Junhui has come up with the "Never Have I Ever went after someone else's wave on purpose", Jeonghan with "Never Have I Ever done drugs”, Mingyu with "Never Have I Ever been screamed at by a customer at my job" and Seungkwan with "Never Have I Ever killed a relative as an excuse not to stood someone up”, and nearing the end the few questions that would have spiced up the night if they were sixteen and in the company of their crush (“Never Have I Ever had sex on the first night" [Mingyu, Wonwoo and Jeonghan drink], “Never Have I Ever done it outside” [Seungcheol and Jihoon drink]) had managed to yearn them good stories that had the group laughing until they were on the floor.

Promptly, both Wonwoo and Mingyu sip from their drinks, Wonwoo’s downing his on one go. Having remained quiet for three questions, Junhui doesn’t drink, but swivels his upper body around as if ready to say something and delivers a hard punch to Soonyoung biceps, leaving the other surprised with the gratuitous assault.

“What was that for???”

“I just remembered you kissed me when we were fifteen and I never got the chance of getting back at you for it."

“Is it my fault you apparently repressed this memory? I've always been a naive teenager! I had to find out if I was into guys! Made ourselves a favor, thanks to me now you’re a hundred percent sure you’re straight! Thank me later!”

“Thank you for sharing your bi-curious experience, Soonyoung and Junnie,” Seungcheol chimes in the subject over Junhui’s loud cry as he claims to have always been sure of his orientation thus Soonyoung’s kiss was uncalled for.

“You’re welcome, hyung. Glad for schooling you all on why heteronormativity can go fuck itself. And I got a good one! Never Have I Ever popped a major boner on P.E. class.”

“This is oddly specific,” Seokmin comments, taking a sip of his Bloody Margaret through a straw made of steel that Wonwoo didn’t even know his parents owned. Mingyu falls on his back on the mat and huffs out a laugh, tossing one of the sofa’s cushions in the air.

Seungcheol spins around to face Soonyoung making it clear the youngest is in trouble. “Yah!” he snaps, “don’t you think Jun has hit you hard enough already?” Soonyoung jolts on his feet and bolts away knocking Wonwoo’s empty bottle on the floor, but Seungcheol catches up with him in no time.

“Did it really happen?” Mingyu asks to Wonwoo as everybody starts to get up and give the game a wrap.

It happened once, during Jeonghan and Seungcheol last year of high school. The former claimed to have been victim of an incident instead of being turned on by anything, but the youngers made sure to not let it be forgotten and used this as a clapback from time to time. Wonwoo tells Mingyu just that before getting up and heading off to the kitchen.

He returns with two bottles of beer, offers one to Mingyu and sinks down back on the floor to sit right by his side. Together they observe Jeonghan help Seungcheol to catch Soonyoung and the oldest pinning him against Wonwoo’s mother’s favorite Persian mat. The boys hype him up and start to jump around the two of them.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” they chant in unison and Seungcheol kneels on the mat too, one knee pressing Soonyoung down, a hand holding the male’s arm behind his back.

“You have done good or bad?”

“I was just telling the truth. I can’t lie,” Soonyoung defends himself, face to the floor and a breathless giggle adding a wobble to his words.

“I’ll ask one more time, have you done good or bad?”

Jeonghan presses a foot against Soonyoung’s ribs.  “Answer it correctly or we’ll shove your head inside the pool until you do!”

“I’m a mermaid," Soonyoung states, "hyung can’t possibly drown me. I’ll survive!”

“Is that so? What about you not being able to lie?” Seungcheol sits back on his heels and tugs Soonyoung’s feeble arms repeatedly. “Let’s see if you’re really telling the truth! Jihoon-yah, grab his legs!"

“I’ve been waiting for it forever!” Jihoon go on to help and the others join him to carry Soonyoung to the backyard, but Mingyu and Wonwoo linger behind, preferring to watch them from inside the living room. With the door to the backyard open and welcoming the crisp air inside, Wonwoo's cold already. He knows he can't bear being splashed by the pool water.

"A pool." Mingyu gestures to the architectural, custom-made pool and his voice gives away how mesmerized he is. "Your place really has a pool."

A pool can be considered a particularly useless luxury considering they live inside of an island and are obviously surrounded by water. Wonwoo, however, hasn’t given it much thought before. It isn't used as often as it should, but it's there because his dad swims twenty laps without intervals  every morning during weekends and his brother doesn't leave it when he's home for summertime. The youngest claims Jeju is too hot but avoids the beach at all costs. He would always whine about a sting in his eyes due to the salty water when the pool was still a project on their mom’s drawer at their parent’s shared home office.

Contrary to him, who would lose track of time during summer, his brother has never fully adapted to life at the Island, and would count the days to return to his usual clothes, pale skin, school uniform and self-imposed loneliness, because in Jeju nothing could ever be nowhere near as good as whatever he had found in Seoul. And although Wonwoo misses having the most important member of his family around all days, he knows they’re two branches of the same tree, growing in different directions and drifting further apart each day.

“Hey,” he says observing the group dragging a spent Soonyoung to the edges of the pool, “how have you met them?" Seungcheol gives the younger another chance of redeeming himself but he is keen to let it slip away by mumbling yet another impolite answer.

Sitting up, Mingyu uses the fabric to open the cap of his bottle and pushes it to Wonwoo. "My family knows hyung's family since forever because our mothers are friends since middle school, but he has always lived here so we only met on weekends whenever I came over to my grandparents’ home, which is where I live now, if you remember, and hyung introduced us to Hansolie this year."

"I see.” Wonwoo mimics Mingyu and opens the additional bottle, then slides it to him and earns a lopsided-smile as a reward. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask but are Hansol and Minghao a thing or...?"

"They're just super close." Mingyu shrugs. “We've all met Hansol the week we moved in and those two hit off right away.”

“Right.” Wonwoo nods and accepts the answer, but in all honesty, he doesn't know what to make of it.

Earlier he had watched Hansol guffawing and topple to Minghao’s side from across the circle in which the thirteen of them were sitting and considered asking their status to Seokmin on Monday morning. The two of them would usually give off a funny vibe that Wonwoo never got to decode during the moments they had been in the same room. Having approached this subject seems like a bad idea now.

"Hao, Seok and I came up with this plan of moving in together still in middle school. We didn't know exactly how we would do this or where we were going to live, but we were sure about it either way.” Mingyu sips on his beer. “It turns out the bungalow was here, unoccupied and accumulating dust. The house needed residents and we needed a house, so why not? We moved a day after graduation."

"What about your parents?"

"I had discussed it with them, but I guess my mom only really understood I meant it when I was already on my way out. They tried to convince me otherwise for two days but let me go in the end, which was ideal because I didn't want to argue with them over this. It was settled.”

A bold move for someone his age and recently graduated from school. After graduating from school himself, Wonwoo had no idea what he wanted to do in his future, but at least watching his friends being in the same position have helped him to feel less lonely.

“I used to surf and have fun there, but I also wanted to be here every day, not only weekends or when my future job allowed me to. I think I never really could wrap my head around this concept of belonging that individuals seem to have. Sometimes we only fit in certain places and by people sides for a little while, may it be months or years.” He glances to Wonwoo after a short moment of contemplation and this is the moment the latter learns that Mingyu has a charming quiet strength of his own. “What about you and the hyungs? How did you become friends?”

Wonwoo frowns, trying to work it all out in his head. They have been by each other’s sides for a lifetime and yet his story isn’t as interesting. He has always lived in the same town and house and his friends are scattered across nearby neighborhoods.

“Well, Jeonghan-hyung has lived next door since forever, same for Seungcheol-hyung but down the street. Soonyoung moved in when I was ten and we met Juni couple years later, when his family moved in from Shenzhen and he got to the same class as us."

Wonwoo supposes that he has covered everything at first and that’s how clear he can go in an attempt of summing up their friendship. He has kept it short and factual, avoiding delving into cheesy bits of his childhood in the company of his friends as he usually does, but the way Mingyu still looks with expectation and waits for him to go on makes him notice he hasn't quite answered his question. It's a tricky one, after all.

He cards his hair with his fingers and leans backwards on his hands. "Being raised in the same neighborhood aside, we're all notoriously bad at living up to our families' expectations or acting accordingly or whatever and it has clearly kept us together more than distanced us. When you're an outsider of sorts it's important to find a community or a group to float to when shit gets bad and you need support. I think we've noticed this quite early and somehow managed to keep our friendship even if we're not always on the same wavelength and have our fallouts. That's borderline sacred to me.” He stares up at Mingyu curiously then. “You must be thinking I’m a poor little rich boy now. It’s ok if you are, but it’s not like that. I know I have it easier than most people."

"This may cross my mind later but for now I’m still trying to digest you having a damn pool at home,” Mingyu says and they share a snicker. “That’s–That’s pretty impressive.”

“Stop it, man,” Wonwoo pleads casting his eyes down and starting to mess with the lid of his bottle, forgotten on the floor near Mingyu’s ankles.

“I can see that,” the younger speaks up again. “To be entirely honest, I could have imagined that you go for a long time."

"Except for Jihoon, course. He got around like two years ago and he knows we're too fucked up for him but also pretty talented when it comes to rolling blunts, so we're definitely the guys he'd want to have around. He couldn't escape even if he tried to.”

"Of course. That's a plus. What about Seungkwan and Chan?” His eyes dart to the boys raising a ruckus in the backyard. “I haven't seen them around before but I think I’ve heard someone mention their names."

Wonwoo hums. "Seungkwan and Chan just fell from their nursery and I took them under my wings. They’re my lost boys. In a way."

"Nice way of adding a little riffing to the story." Mingyu's eyes return to the male by his side, a smirk of his own waiting anxiously for Wonwoo's response to the obvious provocation.

Wonwoo doesn’t take the bait, but he knows he could. “Trust me, sounds better than mentioning their parents kinda think we’re bad influence because of all the surfing, apparent lack of perspective in life and, you know, shit alike," he says before sipping from a bottle he doesn't know if it's his or Mingyu's anymore, “but they’re the same age as my younger brother and it’s not like I’d put them in trouble. By the way, Jeonghan-hyung said your sister’s the same age as his?”

Mingyu beams at the mention of his younger sister. Wonwoo appreciates it.

“Smart cookie that one, Wonwoo-ssi! Even helped out to make a list of things I should settle when I decided to move out! Got quite happy with the idea of not having me in the house to annoy her anymore too,” he tells but Wonwoo can barely pay enough attention to what he says, a detail being picked up by his ears.

Although Mingyu has referred to the others in a more intimate fashion, he insists to treat Wonwoo with a certain degree of distance. It isn’t upsetting in any instance but he feels unapproachable and unfriendly in a way, even if that’s only his fault that Mingyu gets along with his friends and feels at ease with them, considering he has done such a half-assed job in befriending the younger.

Aware he can be passing this exact idea to Mingyu, Wonwoo calls him over the voices coming from the backyard and raising in volume, meaning to ask him to try and be less formal. The younger hums in acknowledgment, encouraging him to go on, but Wonwoo is interrupted by the others, so, to both their luck, that’s all that happens.  

Soonyoung hurries inside the house and leaves a wet trail behind on the mat and flooring, the droplets falling from his hair land on both Mingyu and Wonwoo’s clothes. The others follow suit, some of them joining him in Wonwoo’s bathroom to help him blow his hair dry. As expected, he doesn’t help cleaning and claims being too cold for such task. Admittedly, Soonyoung is chittering repeatedly and hugging around his body the warmest towel he could find when he exits the house in Junhui’s company.

“I’ll drop Soonyoung off and be back later to help you!” Jihoon announces exiting the kitchen with his keys in hand.

There are no available surfaces anymore, just empty glasses, bottles and pizza boxes occupying the counters and the sink. Jeonghan picks up another nearly frozen bottle from the fridge and closes the door with a quiet thump. “As for me, well, I could offer help but I don’t want to,” he says, his sincerity on check. “You kids can take care of it!”

“Hyung, you live next door!”

“I live next door and I need a nap!” the older tells him slowly, as if Wonwoo needs him to do just that in order to comprehend. Wonwoo doesn’t; Jeonghan has shown how lazy he can be several times since they were kids and the older would boss him around and coax Wonwoo to make things for him. It had took him years to notice he has been taken advantage of for all of his childhood.

On his way out, Jeonghan has the audacity of pointing out the damp mat and ask Wonwoo why all the nights at his place end the same catastrophic way, but from the top of his mind Wonwoo reminds at least five past occasions in which everything went to shit and he had nothing to do with them. Soonyoung, on the other hand…!

Mingyu steps inside the kitchen holding six empty bottles in his arms and Wonwoo is surprised to see him still around after having sworn the boy had left  along with his friends minutes ago when they shouted his goodbyes from the front door.

“I’ll help.”

“Soonyoung only mentioned it because it was my condition for him to invite everybody over. I can definitely take care of it myself. I can deal with it in like twenty minutes,” Wonwoo calmly assures him, holding onto the countertop. “It’s just a few bottles and, well, a damp mat. Besides, it’s getting late and I don’t want to keep you here.”

Not convinced that Wonwoo can deal with everything alone, Mingyu dismisses it completely with a shrug. “I have a late shift tomorrow and I can go home right now and do nothing or stick around to help out and be useful. I insist, Wonwoo-ssi!”

He considers it for a second then shakes his head in resignation. “I’ll get plastic bags,” he avows and Mingyu moves to the sink to gather together all the bottles on the same side of the kitchen.

Wonwoo gives him his back and crouches down before the short cupboards to fetch the bags, but soon enough all he can think about is how he’s on the brink of actually becoming Mingyu’s friend, assuming he knows more about him than he knew the day before and that’s how most friendships start. Maybe on their following meeting they’ll sit down together again and talk even more than they have done today and they won’t kiss or have sex ever again, because it’s awkward to kiss your friends and keep things the same if you’re not Kwon Soonyoung and Wen Junhui.

He hasn’t exactly forgotten their nights together even though he definitely hasn’t been thinking about them constantly like a horny teenager either, but maybe their previous conversation has helped to show him it’s a bit too soon to completely discard the idea of having sex with him again.

With Jihoon, Junhui and Soonyoung’s place being thirty-five minutes away from his house, the lanes are slippery with frost and Jihoon being the most cautious driver – and surfer and, hell why not the most cautious person – he knows, which gives him at least fifty minutes until he comes back, if he does at all.

Fifty minutes to have fun sex with Mingyu for the last time.

“Mingyu.”

Wonwoo lurches forward in no time and it feels like he has run kilometers to get this close. He expects Mingyu to be surprised when he spins around and almost bumps on his chest, but Mingyu doesn’t seem fazed. Not even when Wonwoo rests his hands on his hips and pushes him backwards to have the waiter trapped against the sink counter.

“I just noticed I owe you a tour around my house too.”

Mingyu stares down at him, eyes only stopping dipping down when they meet Wonwoo’s lips, and the older closes the deal.

Mingyu adds depth to their kiss when his hand grabs at the nape of his neck and Wonwoo feels his tongue licking at his lips and pushing past his teeth. Now he’s being kissed properly and that sounds more like something he’d expect from Mingyu, because he explores the insides of his mouth, sucks at his tongue, bites at his lips and makes everything amazing. Wonwoo isn’t used to it because it’s too early but the way it makes him feel, with his heart banging on his chest because he wants it desperately, is definitely familiar.

Wonwoo muffles a whimper when hands break inside his fluffy sweater and caress his slim waist up and down, fingers squeezing skin right below his ribs.

His own hands move from Mingyu’s sides to interlace their fingers together in a weird position, bringing himself to pull his face away before they can go any further right there on the floor or counter – or worse, don’t go anywhere at all –, although their bodies remain pressed tight in a poor attempt of not letting each other move not even a step away.

The intelligible question is still present in the way Wonwoo stares up at him, head gently cocked to the side.

“Anytime. Lead the way.”

 


	2. Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when you close your eyes, do you picture me? when you fantasize, am I your fantasy? (billie eilish)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO BOTTOMS WERE HARMED DURING THE MAKING OF THIS CHAPTER and it features recreational drug use.

As the days progress, it’s only safe to say that both Wonwoo and Mingyu spend the final days of fall and the entirety of winter going like this. For the first time ever refusing to believe the only purpose of winter is giving the surfers an entire season to prepare for spring and summer, they experience the warmth of each other’s bodies during the days the snow is sweeping across the Island and in such way the season stretches in kissing until their lips are bruised, blowjobs during lunch breaks or movie nights, hiding in tiny secluded spaces while reunited with their friends just so they can get their hands into each other’s pants and multiple short visits to the bungalow within the short span of days.

Killing time in Mingyu’s bed gives Wonwoo something else to focus on other than the fact he is supposed to be fixing the bumps on his surfboard and shaving the thick layer of wax that has been sitting on the deck for a long time, and he only remembers he hasn’t gotten around to put his hands on new pairs of skin shorts, spring wetsuits and garments alike at the surf shop and therefore has to purchase them from an online shop when there are only fifteen or so days left of March.

The frigid weather and crispy air vanish altogether once the season eventually comes to an end, but the sun is still nowhere to be seen. The rainy season won’t start until another three months and not even the dullness hovering over the Island is capable of stopping the mood to rise. The days become considerably humid, and, analogous to an unruly wildfire spreading along the vegetation of the Hallasan National Park, spring comes round melting the snow accumulated over banks of flowers and revealing again the crown of the evergreen, fully leafed Eucalyptus trees forest that can be spotted from Mingyu’s bedroom and coloring the streets pink of all the Cherry Blossoms.

With the end of Wonwoo and Mingyu's steamiest winter, the latter is twenty-one now, and, at this point, Wonwoo has inevitably learned more about Mingyu, sexual preferences and quirks included. Mingyu is a great hug deliver (Wonwoo hasn’t exactly been hugged by him, but this is the type of things one can notice). He gives Wonwoo epic orgasms. He cooks ramen the best. He would have walked and swam to the south side if there were no buses waiting for him at the terminal. His bed smells as a mix of clean laundry, seaweed and his açaí and aloe vera scented body wash, which makes it difficult for Wonwoo to get up and leave at the end of their nights.

Wonwoo, however, has also learned that Mingyu is a person of countless facets. He had looked overconfident in the surf shop; gentle inside the coziness of his bedroom at Minghao’s birthday party; professional wearing a suit at the yacht club the afternoon after their first time; accessible and happy when drenched wet from salty water, his surfboard to be repaired; hot enough to burn Wonwoo’s skin on bed.

Now, as he watches him getting down the intercity bus that brings him back home after spending the entire week of his birthday out the city visiting his family, Wonwoo doesn’t know what else he was expecting to discover for insisting to pick Mingyu up at the bus station with Joshua.

Learning through Seokmin that the male was out of town during his birthday hadn’t affected Wonwoo at first, and although his shifts at the bakery had ran smoothly, especially whenever Jeonghan wasn’t around to cause trouble, and he had even been by Joshua’s side up in the lifeguard station when the latter called on Mingyu’s phone to sang him Happy Birthday To You on his ukulele, anticipation had grown inside him as the week rolled and Mingyu’s return neared.

Wonwoo doesn’t know what’s so different about him this time, but Mingyu doesn’t look the same as last week. He wears his casual joggers, has slippers on his feet, a snapback covering his dark hair and he might even get some sand accumulating at the bottom of the backpack hanging from his broad shoulders. There’s also a huge, satisfied grin stretching his lips, as if he clings tight to the realization of how good is to be back home.

Wonwoo can’t smile as wide as him from where he stands, but his growing smirk shows a hint of amusement when Mingyu finally spots him waiting with his back pressed to the hood of Joshua’s pick-up truck.

“Took you long enough!” he jests and joins Mingyu in the backseat. Joshua reminds them he isn’t their private driver, but starts the car either way to back up in the avenue.

“Do we have somewhere to go?” Mingyu marvels pursing his lips foolishly, “do we?”

Joshua checks Mingyu through his rearview mirror. “It depends. Do you have your shorts with you or do we have to stop by at yours to get you one?”

“On my stuff, yeah!” Mingyu replies, looking up to the sky out the window. The day’s a tad dusky, but the clouds up in the sky don’t look particularly denser than they have been on any other day.

So far Spring has been all outcast, unsaturated grey and overall dull days, air oddly humid and of a perpetual morning dew that leads most of the people to carry umbrellas inside their bags and keep the proper garments for rainy days at hands, never really dispelling the chance of the sky granting the island with a rainstorm.

“You made me come back this early to surf?”

“Not surfing,” Wonwoo clarifies and another curious glance is aimed his direction. It’s gone in a heartbeat, Mingyu already asking Joshua to keep his eyes on the road because he’s got to change.

He is too distracted with Mingyu’s return to notice how adapted to watching the other undressing off his clothes he has become. He’s already expecting Mingyu to start taking his shirt off until he doesn’t.

“You too, hyung,” Mingyu mumbles, raising his chin in insolent fashion.

  
“Really?” Wonwoo scoffs in protest and the words come out more affected than he means to. If Mingyu notices, he doesn’t hold it against him. “Ok, ok.”

Giving in, he averts his eyes as requested and rests his head against the window. At first, the reflection of the younger hunching forward and pulling his t-shirt along his lean torso and over his head isn’t something to bother about, but Mingyu rears backwards, shirtless and working efficiently on the button and zipper of his pants, hauling his eyes in like magnets and Wonwoo decides to ignore it in order to admire the streets.   
  
It isn't until Mingyu’s dressed with shorts that barely reach the muscles above his knees that Wonwoo is snapped out of his reverie. Mingyu's fingers brush his elongated ones as both their hands rest over the fabric of the backseat. They still have thirty minutes of road ahead until they get to where they’re being expected by the others to give Wonwoo belated celebration for his birthday.

Even after Seungcheol has spread his father’s map over the hood of his car and traced a red line with his index finger while the others crowd around him, paying attention to his instructions, both Chan and Seungkwan, as alien to the surroundings as the others, run in the front, leaving Minghao and Hansol to ran after them on auto pilot and make sure they don’t stray from the trail.    

Venturing inside the secluded warm-temperate rainforest, it’s the first time Wonwoo forgets to wish for the sun to reveal itself from behind the clouds for this season. Here, it doesn’t matter if it’s whether sunny or cloudy, because the sky remains shrouded by a canopy of high trees and the hours follow the same seamless course of the stream of water that can be heard in the distance. It’s easy to get yourself lost in a place that is huge at the same time that it is so closed and where the wide diversity of plants and trees reveal as even vaster each minute you spend inside.

“Promise you won’t get behind and miss your birthday celebration, Mingyu,” he whispers in his ear. Mingyu looks a bit surprised to learn the brushing sensation on his arm isn’t a plant, but Wonwoo pushing past him after noticing the male coming to a halt on the track the others have already followed.

Wonwoo spins around to face him properly, however not waiting for a proper answer. Both his and Mingyu’s hairs already have that damp aspect for spending quite some time exposed to humidity and they're surrounded by a calming atmosphere.

“I won’t, I was just–” Mingyu looks up again and inhales deeply the scent of moss. Wonwoo decides to do the same, observe the greenness above their heads and interpret the dozens of sounds coming from chirping birds and insects.

“I know. It’s massive.”

The male before him watches with a blank face, but later agrees, “yes. Massive. Why do I feel the urge to lie down and spend the entire morning here with only the moss as company?”

He hates how well he can picture himself doing the exact same, richness of details included. Everything seems so inviting. Wonwoo has visited enough waterfalls by now, but rarely been inside forests aside from the Eucalyptus ones.

“You better reconsider that, I can spot at least three species of plants that will cause you hives if you do," Wonwoo says proudly. The noise of creaking branches combined with chatter is farther now and they’re getting behind. "We should get going.”

Mingyu nods promptly and spreads an arm out to show him the way toward the others, even though he's behind both, “after you.”

 

 

 

 

"What's Mingyu doing?"

Up in the waterfall, the mighty stream interplays with Soonyoung, Chan and Seokmin's ankles where the synchronized trio of swimmers has been performing somersaults, unbothered with the prospect of jumping head down to the rocks at the feet of the waterfall. Sitting on said rocks and cheering for them aloud, the other boys disturb the blissful roar of running water.

Wonwoo lies on his back on top of the larger and flattest rock he had found after arriving to the waterfall. Droplets of fresh water spurt on his glasses and on the cover of his edition of The Seventh Day, but Wonwoo figures that asking a waterfall not to cascade 10 meters into a pond of crystal-clear water and smooth the edges of pointy rocks all the way down it’s not in his powers.

He lowers his book and raises his head, only barely acknowledging Junhui crouched by his side in order to search for Mingyu with his eyes, having parted ways with him minutes after they reached the end of their hiking and got to their destination. The last time Wonwoo had acknowledged his presence, Mingyu had been seen brushing with his foot the sleepy plants growing nearby.

“Fishing,” Wonwoo informs, spotting Mingyu in Hansol’s company through squinted eyes, both males standing on the sandbank formed at the margins, water barely reaching their calves.

Junhui flicks Wonwoo on the forehead. “ _Duh_. As if the harpoon in his hand isn’t any indicative! I’m asking what he is doing _at the moment_. Where the fuck he got this?”

“He made it out of a tree branch he found in the trail. He was pretty determinate in catching fishes for lunch on our way here,” he replies putting his book aside and sitting up. Upon detailed inspection, a smile creeps onto his face. “He probably lost the courage when he noticed he'd have to actually stick the fish with his harpoon in order to catch it.”

“It explains why he's been staring at them with pity for solid ten minutes now.”

Wonwoo recovers his book from the rock and he places it open on his lap, pages up.

“Mingyu is something else,” Junhui comments, but Wonwoo can’t bring himself to offer more than a polite hum to his friend. His eyes are drawn to his book and he plans to read the entire page again now he had his reading interrupted. “You have been seeing each other for what, five months now? I think I've never seen your flings last longer this long. I’m amazed. Worried too, perhaps.”

The change of subject is sudden for sure, but Wonwoo doesn’t see a problem. Sounds like Junhui.

“Five months, something like it,” he answers shifting his position and landing his book on his now pulled in knees. “But isn’t a fling and isn’t ‘lasting’. It is what it is. We’re friends.”

Taking into consideration Mingyu and Wonwoo’s capacity of holding a civil conversation without jumping on each other, it’s just fair to assume they’re friends now, months passed since they have started to have sex. Said conversation may not last long before they eventually do, but at least they are often together and  _this_  totally sounds as something friends do.

“Why him though? Sex without love is... I don’t know. An urge! It’s not that important, is it? Can't you sleep with other people then?”

Wonwoo raises his head again, an idea playing on his mind. He grips at the nape of Junhui’s neck and pulls him impossibly closer until he is nuzzling along his nose. Junhui goes cross-eyed as he tries to focus on Wonwoo’s face.

“Are you offering?” he asks smiling gigantic, showing all of his teeth in the process, but Junhui places both his hands on his bare chest and puts some distance between their bodies.

“It’d be nice if my best friends stopped harassing me. I know I’m hot but please calm your tits!”

Wonwoo snickers and withdraws without arguing.

“Answering your question, surely I can sleep with other people. He probably does. I’m just lazy to go out and find someone else, I have Mingyu after all. You say sex without love is an urge but don’t you think that love without sex is oddly similar to just friendship?” he questions.

"Don’t ask me. I only think it’s stupid to have this kind of relationship.”

“Sure, you’re entitled to an opinion, but I do have my reasons and to me they’re sufficiently strong.” He puts his book aside again and waves his hand in Mingyu’s direction. “This wasn't how I planned but it happened when our groups of friends merged somehow.”

Junhui looks down to his own lap for a second, then back to Wonwoo, face a mystery. “You think this is going somewhere,” he says gently, “you and little fisherman over there?”

He looks at Mingyu, who has completely given up from catching fishes and is too busy talking with both Hansol and Seungkwan now.

“We are somewhere. We’re exactly where were supposed to be.” Wonwoo shrugs a single shoulder. “Some people know how to make good use of what they have and find ways of having fun without eventually asking for more.”

Chan lands nearby, water splashing in all directions.

“Wonwoo, you absolute idiot!” Junhui pushes him off slightly but his voice is as gently as before. Junhui is a brute with all those lean muscles that make all the girls turn their heads in his direction whenever they cross paths but he could never be angry at Wonwoo. “You don't befriend someone you're only willing to fuck. In the end someone will be head over heels and I hope it’s the both of you, otherwise this will be a bummer. Worse, a mess.”

Wonwoo wants to beg his friend to come off the aforementioned and overused friends-to-lovers fantasy. Unlike a cheesy Nicholas Sparks’ novel, there will be no ending because their relationship is inexistent and this is pretty much – mind-blowing and quite frequent – sex.

If he had fallen for Mingyu at some point of the past months, he would have been fine with it. He isn’t an enthusiast of the bachelor life or opposed to romance in any instance. There's nothing wrong with Mingyu either. Albeit what they have is strictly sexual, Wonwoo wouldn't had continued this if Mingyu was a completely asshole, this he knows.

Compared to the other four guys Wonwoo had sex with, Mingyu is above the average, personality wise. The first guy with whom he’d gotten intimate with was just a cute and horny teenager just like himself and they had done it in the most obscure fashion and in the kid's bedroom one afternoon they were supposed to be finishing their science project; second and third were easily forgettable one-offs he picked up on night outs; the fourth, a guy that has moved from the city because of University and with whom he’d have sex anytime he came home on weekends, but the situation ended boring him after the first three months.

There have been girls too, one before the first guy and the other in between second and third, but their names are more likely to slip from his mind whenever he thinks back to his sexual endeavors.

The thing is, even if they share friends and Mingyu is a perfectly fine company in terms of occasionally meeting up to either surf on Jungmun, skateboarding along downtown’s avenues without destination in mind or playing videogames at the bungalow, Wonwoo doesn't think this is enough to make him fall. Sex is easy and every human-being is bound to experience it sooner or later, but loving and being loved is a luxury that many individuals sadly don’t get to experience.

Love is plain luck and what are the odds of him suddenly finding love on someone he has been fucking for months now?

“I haven’t heard many love stories that have started with two individuals having a no-string attached. It sounds kind of wrong to have a relationship starting like this, so stop jinxing it!” he warns Junhui, pulling up a deep frown.

“You don’t need me to jinx it! You’ve jinxed it yourself the moment you decided you couldn’t just date like real people would, y’know?”

Jeonghan approaches them, wet and excited, water waist high. Flexing his fingers, he calls him Wonwoo closer to him. “C’mon, Woo, you’ve read enough.”

“The sounds and aromas of the forest relax me,” Wonwoo hiccups but Jeonghan still waits patiently. Conformed, Wonwoo sets his glasses aside, too distant from his stuff to take it there and protect it from the water. “Alright, alright. You don’t have to rush me. I can go by myself.”

He dives head down inside the pond and flaps his feet to push as farther as possible from both Jeonghan and Junhui, only emerging when he has put some distance from the pair.

Underwater it’s nice and clear, sand floor and rocks covered in lime coming to view as Wonwoo dives deeper. Unlike the corals at the Island’s shore, the fishes protecting themselves behind and under the rocks aren’t much bigger than tadpoles and they zap before his eyes at the sudden disturbance. At first, Wonwoo thinks he is the disturbance – which he is, of course – but even when he tries to stop moving, the water around him undulates as the surface of a lake suffering an attack of skipping stones being tossed.     

The drizzle exponentially turns to a rainstorm, but the group refuses to leave, preferring to shelter under the trees at the margins and watch the thick droplets hit the pond without mercy whilst groaning and blaming Mingyu’s cold feet for ruining their morning.

Revealing himself as much more chill and calm than the common fuckboy Wonwoo had taken him for at first glance, during winter Mingyu has inherited the noble position of their group’s punch bag and the first option ever to be called out.

Being the first who steps inside a small emporium in the alleyways of the street market after the group has agreed to, even if begrudgingly, go down the waterfall trail after hearing thunders roaring in the distance and boarding Seungcheol, Jihoon and Joshua’s cars, Jihoon hints that Mingyu should be the one treating their meal.

“Why me?” the younger asks behind Wonwoo when the thirteen of them have finally pushed inside through the royal-blue doors of the establishment with quick paces and some shoves to each other’s ribs to escape the rain.

Wonwoo has never been in this exactly shop although he still keeps within him pleasant memories of afternoon visits to the market in his mother’s tow, but the shop has a familiar feel to it, not quite memorable but certainly interesting and attractive to the eyes and nose, and it captures the Island’s fashion in a simple way.

Someone washes dishes in the kitchen and there are sounds of soft steps dragging on the floor, but the shop would be deserted if not for the friends’ presence. It’s barely noon but outside the cars have full headlights on and it’s as dark as pre-nightfall.  

Even if his stomach is growling, he’s the last to order, unable to decide amongst all the stuff, mostly street food, they have in their menu. Sitting down to share one of the four only tables inside the narrow shop with Chan, Jeonghan and Seokmin, his friends are already halfway to their food and going on about a range of subjects Wonwoo can only put his mind on partially, Mingyu’s trip back home included. 

The rain has already withered to the point of some of the people visiting the market having lowered their umbrellas. A small line of teenagers leaning by the counter wait for their order and the woman heads off to the kitchen for the longest time.

The place becomes small to fit nineteen people, and Wonwoo completely understands when some decide to wait outside for the others to finish their foods.

Mingyu knocks, knuckles crooked, on the window pane besides his table, and raises a book over his face when he has the latter’s attention. Wonwoo’s brows dart upwards when he recognizes the cover of The Seventh Day. In a minute, he’s leaving the shop with his plastic bowl of greasy food in hands and jumping over the water puddles that the rain also created on the sidewalk even if it has fell with parsimony.

Joshua and Jeonghan chat nearby and the younger has his arms protectively folded over his chest, but Wonwoo is all smiles to the book handed to him.

Akin to a soldier returning from a bloody battle, the book is on the verge of falling to pieces. The pages stick to one another in the middle and it feels heavier than Wonwoo remembers in his hands due to how drenched it is.

“How could I have forgotten my book?" An overwhelmed Wonwoo raises his eyes to find Mingyu's but the younger also has his eyes pointed to the what’s left of his book.

"You were in the water when it started raining, must've been it."

No. He has forgotten about his book because Junhui had been giving him shit and come at him to talk about what's going on between the two of them. But he can't really tell Mingyu this. They have this sorta high degree of intimacy because of all the stuff they have been doing behind closed doors but mentioning this would make things awkward. He does not want this. They still have a long of way to go.

"Saw you reading it earlier. Funny hyung, reading near the water." Mingyu raises his eyes with smugness.

“Yes, exactly." He slaps the book on his palm with exasperation but regrets it immediately. "Thanks."

Mingyu nods a couple times and presses his lips tight. Wonwoo knows the boy isn't feeling it.  _Thanks_  is so overused people can’t even understand how grateful you are anymore. His book is ruined, of course, but Mingyu's intention is nearly as good as if he had his book intact in his hands.

"No, thank you so much and I really mean it, Gyu," he insists and decides to shuffle Mingyu's dark hair for good measure. The boy closes his eyes and his shoulders rise.

Wonwoo can't help but beam at how gentle Mingyu always is, not only to him but to everybody else as well. It’s in his nature and Wonwoo can’t even gauge how cool it is.

Mingyu huffs out a laugh with sheer embarrassment, eyes fluttering open. "Will you just drop it, hyung? I said it's not that big of a deal."

"Regardless! I know it seems I'm just messing with you now, which I kinda am because your ears are red as hell and that’s funny.” Mingyu whines and stumbles backwards to the nearer wall. “But I'm honestly thankful you saved my book since I have been a bad owner and only remembered it now you brought the subject up."

"Too bad it's wet now. We should have seen the storm coming,” he says, but doesn't blame whoever's idea of celebrating his birthday in this weather was.

Wonwoo supposes Seokmin's had good intentions when they were sitting at the employees room to have lunch and the younger came up with the idea to celebrate his best friend’s belated birthday somewhere Mingyu has never been before.

"It's an old copy! It's worn out, ripped at the edges... I can always dry it with paper napkins overnight until I get my hands on a new one. Although it would be nice to keep it the way it is now. This book now carries witness marks of a cool—Mingyu's cool morning, don't you think? This book has survived Jeju's weather. This book has done well. Thanks again."

"You're welcome. I think I’ll get going because the guys are taking ages and they were talking about going to Josh’s place after this but I have to work tonight and I need a shower and maybe a nap too. Fuck, I woke up too early to be here on time and I probably won’t be back home until midnight.”

“Ah yes, Saturday night is a big night at the Club. This I remember.”

“Every night’s a busy night even if Saturdays are wack and there are always so many people willing to get drunk and cracking dumb jokes and making weird comments,” Mingyu says stealing French fries from Wonwoo’s bowl and the older scolds him with a kick on the sides of his hips, but lets him have it either way.

“We should walk together to the bus stop. I don’t feel like going to Josh’s either.”

“Definitely,” Mingyu agrees happily and interprets this as the green light to steal more fries.

After waving goodbye to Joshua, Jeonghan and the others through the panes of glass on the shop windows, Wonwoo gives up on finishing his food. Mingyu has taken over completely and decided he's the one having them, as if the two bowls he had inside aren't enough to fill his stomach.

They walk side to side with lazy steps and Mingyu does the majority of the talking, and even if Wonwoo himself isn't the most talkative amongst the two, they end up approach subjects of his interest such as the scarce swell on the beach and the weather.

In Jeju, where the culture is heavily rooted in fishery and sea activities, sooner or later you'll be pausing your day to listen to the forecast on the daily News and discussing the weather conditions with those around you; serving as a conversation filler for most people around the world, in the island the subject is a serious talk. The mercurial weather has conditioned its habitants to live their days to the fullest, because in the following day everything can have taken a one-eighty.

They arrive to the bus stop with their chins raised and eyes shooting up to the sky. It's still grey but not as dark as before, and so Wonwoo comments about how this spring isn’t like any other the moment his bus appears on the horizon of the avenue.

Wonwoo hops in with the promise of catching up with Mingyu later and takes a seat on the back of a nearly empty bus. He’s unlocking the front door to find his parents are taking a dozen bowls of food to the glass-top dining table they have outside at the pool area in thirty.

They look like an old-married loaded couple, as they are, and Wonwoo considers pointing this out, but he can't bring himself to do it when they're both laughing and happy to be doing so.

"Oh, Wonwoo!" Tall on her baby-blue wedge shoes and with her black-wool hair covered by her floppy beach hat, his mother acknowledges his presence and returns two steps back before crossing the doorframe to the backyard. "Go change these wet clothes and come eat with us!"

"I've eaten already but I'll be there in a minute.”

“Eat again!”

Listening to his father tell her to stop trying to get their son to gain weight with her insistence on making him eat more, Wonwoo heads to his bedroom to change and leave his book on the windowsill, and returns in a heartbeat to join them at the table.

“The rain has ruined mine and your father’s plan of having lunch at the club, so we decided to just eat outside now the rain has given us a break! Isn’t this amazing?” The woman asks setting her hat on an empty chair by her side. At this point in life, Wonwoo can as well compare his parents’ lives to a party that never ends. Even though they’re always busy with their jobs, whenever they’re together, simple things such as eating outside in a slow paced afternoon has the couple silly giggling. “I've knocked on your door early in the morning but apparently you weren't home. Please tell me I was mistaken and you weren’t out with that silly board of yours on this weather!”

"Wasn't surfing," he provides shrugging his shoulders. “I had to pick up a friend from the bus terminal because we were celebrating his birthday on a waterfall."

“Thank God, you still have the right mind to not take this obsession of yours too far. Has he enjoyed the surprise?"

"Yes, at least he looked quite amazed by the forest when we got in. He even tried to catch fishes for our lunch but felt bad for killing them."

"A forest? What were you doing in a forest?" his mother questions with a blank face and her hands stop mid-air, not really finishing her task of picking up a bowl that’s too far from his dad’s seat for him to do it by himself.

"Only way to get to this particular waterfall is crossing the forest for two hours."

She frowns before the inconceivable idea. "Why would you even choose this waterfall then?”

“It’s called an adventure, love!"

His father sighs deeply and jolts up from his seat when he’s saturated with the wait.

Wonwoo smiles with mischievousness. “The only stuff we found there were poison ivy and ginseng. It was boring in this sense because I was really hoping to hear the spirit of the dead screaming for help or whatever.”

His mother has always been way too gullible to a business woman and he blames it on all the time she spent studying and working instead of living outside. This time he doesn’t let him into her head though.

“Tucking yourself inside a forest to get to a waterfall sounds so... Impractical! I can’t even imagine which things are hidden in Jeju’s forests!” she argues, reaching out over the dishes to pick up a cherry tomato. “I don’t get it. Why would you celebrate a birthday inside of a forest? There’s plenty of places you could have visited. Like the yacht club! You could have gone sailing, for example!”

Apparently starving, the man circles the table to fetch the bowl of roasted goguma himself and returns to his seat. He settles it back on the table, closer to him this time, and pushes an empty plate in Wonwoo’s direction, encouraging his son to wait albeit her early concern with the mother intentions.

“You were saying you were planning to have lunch at the club early?” Wonwoo speaks up again, planning to keep his plate empty even after Mingyu had stolen his food on their way to the bus stop.

“What’s with the sudden interest? Already knowing your answer, I’ll risk asking, were you considering joining us?” the mother questions, side-eying his behavior.

He shakes his head no. In fact he’s just wondering if Mingyu has ever spotted his parents at the club, considering their weekly visits. He knows his parents aren’t the spoiled kind, but still hopes they have not given him hell in their possible encounters. He can only imagine the kind of issues Mingyu, Minghao and Hansol deal with by working in a place with so many etiquette rules to be followed.

“Not really, was just curious to be honest. Being seen with those spoiled brats your friends have for kids would hurt my image. I’m well-known in the streets. Better yet, well-known in the water.”

His father cackles and his mother dismisses his words entirely. “Your image? Are you a gangster of some sorts and I’m only noticing now? Great reputation you have! It’s been so long since you visited that nobody even remembers your face anymore!” she dramatizes. “Last week one of the ladies stopped me asked me how my little boy was doing and for a moment I thought she meant your brother but it was actually you. They haven’t seen you in so long!”

“She’s elderly,” his father sort of backs him up.

“I’ve been there a couple months ago. November, actually. Dropped by to return something to a friend who works there,” Wonwoo clarifies pouring himself a glass of water from a jar. “Noticed they changed a few things.”

“Oh. Do I know him?” The mother sounds genuinely interested in his social life. Wonwoo has many acquaintances whom his parents have no idea of the existences, but friends are just the same old crowd who has lived on their block or at least visited before. She would definitely remember if he had introduced her to someone who works at the club. “How does he look like? I should let him know that we’re your parents if we see him tonight!”

“Are you still going there later?” Wonwoo asks, worried with his parents’ obsession with the yacht club. It’s not like they even enjoy their facilities that much after all.

“Bingo night, Wonwoo! Bingo night!” the woman reminds him, offended. “We were planning to have lunch and drinks and leave after bingo was over. Oh well!”

Wonwoo nods thoughtfully and tells her that he doesn’t think that his friend will be working tonight, because the least he needs is another client bothering Mingyu in one of his busiest nights.

The subject changes quickly.

His mother prompts, voice tinged with a feeling Wonwoo can only guess as anticipation, that they should have lunch by the pool again some time when the youngest Jeon will be back for his school break and the entire family is reunited during summer, and his father wonders, out loud, how the woman manages to look even prettier since the previous week.

She answers by crossing her heart to explain that the source of her increased beauty is the haircut she had managed to squeeze in her schedule the previous morning.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After the summer in which Wonwoo turned sixteen was over, all the girls in his school year started to fawn over Jeonghan. Differing from the usual islander look and reflecting the three weeks he had been exiled at the continent for his vacations, his skin was smoother instead of peeling at the nose and shoulders, and he had grown a couple centimeters taller, which gave him a hint of coolness that made him become the man of the hour around school.

With his chin on top of the desk and Soonyoung on one of his sides and Junhui on the other, Wonwoo had listened to both boys snort and curse at the attention their upperclassman received from the girls who were supposed to be into  _them_  instead of crowding on their classroom door during their lunch break to wait for him to pass by, but Wonwoo has never bothered enough with how riled up the girls have gotten to do more than lend his ears for his friends’ protests.

To sixteen-year-old Wonwoo, who suffered in Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s hands his entire childhood, the latter looked cool since birth.

Now he’s far from it, but still elicits compliments from costumers on a daily basis, even when he’s doing nothing but standing there behind the counter and looking good. Jeonghan never goes about the business people expect him to. Never learns how to operate the coffee machine properly or helps Wonwoo to clean the house after parties even though he lives next door, but will ask Mrs. Im about her granddaughter every morning she comes by for her decaf fix, which makes the woman smile from ear to ear.

“It's not really fair, is it?" Jeonghan decides to lean backwards on the sink with his hands on each side of his body, gripping lazily at the edges of the cold surface.

Given his self-imposed and tight schedule, Wonwoo is early for his shift again, and his mind has wandered from the crow scratching and pecking at the hood of Beomju’s car, as expected from the terrifying mood settled by Jeju’s weird weather, to yet another pointless weekly argumentation brought to the staff by Jeonghan.

This time, the meeting hasn’t even reached the staff’s room and now it’s being hold in the narrow space between the industrial fridge and oven. Wonwoo feels feverish inside the sweater that seemed just fine this morning when he left the house. He feels the way it’s reserved only for summer nights. All he has to do is closing his eyes and he’ll land, sweaty and restless, on Soonyoung, Junhui and now Jihoon’s sofa whenever he stayed over in their apartment, ceaselessly rolling over from one side to another until he decides to sleep on the cold floor.      

Wonwoo has just considered returning his sweater to his shiny locker once they’re over with it when the entire set of lights they have on the kitchen ceiling flicker, causing the three girls chewing gum with the most bored faces they can pull off to look up to with brilliant synchronization. The rest of the staff – that is, Jeonghan, Seokmin, Seungcheol and Beomju – go silent too, but it only lasts three seconds. Jeonghan is back at his rant in sequence, holding everyone back from starting their day and opening the bakery.

"I've been working here for the past two years. Wonwoo has been part of our team for a year.” The fact Jeonghan has never, not even once, referred to the staff as a team makes Wonwoo’s head snap in their direction. “Don't you think this is unfair, hyung?"

Beomju shrugs a single shoulder, but seems to take Jeonghan’s complaint into account. The man looks exhausted already. Wonwoo’s eyes travel all the way to the clock on the wall above his boss’ head. It’s barely eight.

Jeongyeon raises her upper limbs up high and almost spits her gum on her own lap as she remembers them that she has been working in the bakery for a year too, thus, her name should also be considered for the position of new manager, but they don’t listen to her and keep going instead.

Wonwoo is only awkwardly standing there, in the middle of undressing from his clothes, superior limbs in an awkward position, eyes flicking from Jeonghan and Beomju to the excited girl. His shift hasn’t technically started yet and he wishes he had been smart enough to continue on bed and maybe coming up with a deluge of thoughts that would finish with his fingers sticky, but he had been unlucky enough to be gifted with the capacity of thinking about the future and the summer.

Now, he’s stuck here.

“Also, you can’t make Seungcheol our manager. An important part of my life is at stake here! He's my best friend and it will shred our friendship in pieces to have him as my superior, Beomju-hyung! This is one of friendship’s unspoken rules! You can't, in any circumstance, have your best friend as your superior! Hierarchy’s a threat to relationships!”

Seungcheol scoffs due to Jeonghan’s unconscious attempt of throwing him, promotion and everything, under the bus.

“I know better than anyone else for how long you have been working here, worry not. I’m sorry, Jeonghan, I haven’t considered you for the position because I thought you wouldn't be interested in working every day once summer starts, when you can as well be soaking up the sun, catching those waves and all that you kids do,” Beomju says with sarcasm, reciting every word with a certain slurred tone that drains Wonwoo’s energy and snatches from Jeonghan’s face the demanding expression he has been holding onto for the past twenty minutes. “Perhaps you want to become our manager so your friendship isn’t ruined?”

The staff gradually swivel their bodies around to look at him. None of them hold any traits of expectation on their faces, which is great, because Jeonghan’s expression falls completely. Dahyun, who has only been working there since the beginning of fall, seems to have gotten the hang of things already as she places her hands under her chin and squints her eyes, sending him a look that mocks her own lack of interest in whatever words he’ll spit.

Wonwoo is compelled to smile at the sight of Jeonghan furrowing his brows because his plan of causing ruckus has backfired and maybe they’ll be able to start working soon.

“Me? No, no! You know what else? I suppose our friendship wasn’t supposed to last this long anyways. He can keep the position and you can keep your ideas away from me,” Jeonghan speaks with a clear screech in his voice, hands waving in the air. Spend the whole summer inside the bakery working the entire week would be hell.

Seungcheol steps closer and holds Jeonghan in a headlock. “You little brat!”

“It’s past seven so we should get our day started. I’ll see you tomorrow and from now on, Seungcheol is your new manager.” Beomju gestures the kitchen exit while Jeonghan screeches in his captor’s grasp. The three girls all take that as a cue and get up immediately to follow Wonwoo out, this being the first time he has seen them move to follow him so fast.

After Beomju is out the door, Mingyu arrives with food.

Daehyun, Jeonghan and Jihyo are on him in a heartbeat, digging out food containers inside the paper bags in his hands with slacked jaws and surprised faces. The food smells delicious from where Wonwoo continues standing at the kitchen entrance, but everyone is too desperate and he has other considerations now, such as Mingyu’s presence this early in the morning.

Mingyu has been adopted by the staff since his second visit to bakery, when he dropped by to eat Seokmin’s buttercream frosting cupcakes because it is their favorite and Seokmin had apparently stopped cooking treats at home. An horde of boys had been inside the establishment with the sole reason of checking the girls out at the time and after learning Mingyu was not only friends with Seokmin as Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Wonwoo’s too, the girls had used him as a shield against the boys’ advances, his presence becoming more efficient than the rest of the staff altogether.

Some mornings he would come by and have a seat at the same table by the window, the girls would stop what they were doing to hang out with him on the same table until Beomju told them to go back to work, and Wonwoo would just bring to his table his favorite cupcake, on the house. These days they barely have time to talk, but Wonwoo enjoys watching story repeat itself and the other boys become green with envy, just as Soonyoung and Junhui had been when they were teens, at the way Mingyu makes the girls laugh their asses off at his jokes and stories.

“Why would you do this t’me?!” Jihyo questions with her elbows plopped over the counter, fork in her hand and a mouthful of homemade jajangmyun. She looks miserable, but secretly, enjoys Mingyu’s treat. Wonwoo feels pretty much the same as her. “You stop this right now! I’m on a diet!”

Mingyu smiles at her and shifts closer to Wonwoo, informing right in his ear that he has something else for him.

His fingers close around Wonwoo’s thin fist easily and Wonwoo dips his eyes to give it a good look. There isn’t an apparent reason for such act and the touch isn’t foreign, but rather the setting. Their conflicting schedules and all the amount of sex they have leave no space for gratuitous displays of affection when they’re not in the bedroom.

They haven’t discuss their situation, but fallen into a silent agreement back on fall. So far, they have only gone three days without having sex with each other since winter, save for the week Mingyu wasn’t in the city for his birthday, and even though this is as no-strings attached as it gets, Wonwoo supposes there is only how long one can go without developing a certain degree of intimacy with their partner.

Most nights they will find the middle ground and adapt to each other’s rhythms and needs without many words or pleas being uttered. Mingyu will handle him with care and touch him accordingly to what Wonwoo wants him to do. Wonwoo will press a trail of kisses on nearly every inch of unclothed skin in Mingyu’s body and only stop when the male is shuddering with such intensity Wonwoo will feel it on his body too.

Wonwoo has witnessed small doses of Mingyu’s softness overtime, however said demonstrations are rather saved to their bedroom dates; outside four walls, anyone will easily guess they are nothing more than usual friends, since most people didn’t seem to acknowledge that every time Mingyu’s lips are bruised, Wonwoo’s are just the same, and each time a new purpling mark peaks out of the collar of Wonwoo’s shirt, Mingyu sports a similar hickey on the same day.

They go to the employees’ room together, Mingyu guiding him as if he’s the one who works at the bakery.

“I wanted food too.”

He stares up at Mingyu with a slight frown, ass pressed against the cheap and old table located in the middle of the room.

“There’s something in the bag for you too, it even has your name on it. Wrote it myself. You can eat after I make it up to you if you’d like.”

Mingyu is onto him easily and his arm pulls Wonwoo closer by a firm grip on his hips.

“Hang on, is this about your mom ringing you last night while I was at your place?”

“Would you mind not talking about my mom – or anybody else if possible – while we’re up close like this, hyung?”

He can’t help it. The thought of her has taken over. He hasn’t seen pics or being less than kilometers distant from her whatsoever, but he had been on the verge of popping a full erection due to her son and felt all awkward the night before when Mingyu, with his tongue still inside of his mouth, decided that that was as good time as any to pick up her call.

The woman had this urgent tone of voice when she accused the younger of giving her dark circles under her eyes since he moved out and cursed him by saying he would only really know what’s like to be deprived from sleep when his eldest son decided to fly out of his nest and onto the world without even saying goodbye, so loud that even Wonwoo had overheard.

Mingyu’s body was gone from where it had been finally pressed oh so nicely against his after two hours playing Fifa and the taller stood up, greeting his mom whilst adjusting his hard-on inside his shorts. Having Mingyu prompting that they should make their match more interesting by putting their mouths at stake had been too much for an already overwhelmed Wonwoo and he had rolled on his stomach and groaned out his frustration on the pillow. 

If it hadn’t been his mother on the phone, Wonwoo is certain he would have picked up the call himself and explained to whoever was ringing that Mingyu was busy, similar to how the latter had shout to Minghao the other day, when the younger thought that banging on the bedroom’s door to tell them they were supposed to keep it low would be effective.

(Maybe Wonwoo would have chosen different words. “Balls deep” sounds a bit harsh now, but the idea stands)

It was Mingyu’s mother busying him though, so Wonwoo exited the bedroom within seconds because fucking her son after such a powerful demonstration of dominance didn’t sound as appealing as it did when Mingyu promised to suck him off after betting the loser would be doing it to the winner.

“You didn’t have to come all the way up to do that,” he insists, not giving in to the touch just yet. His body is arched backwards to brake Mingyu, but he doesn’t move away to escape the embrace either.

Wonwoo had ridden a bus home after leaving the bungalow and tucked himself in his bedroom, not bothering to flicker the lights on because he had a semi to take care of. He tried, very hardly so, to take the chance of being by himself in his ambient to fantasize about someone else, however he found out he wasn’t acquainted with anybody as attractive as Mingyu and ended up swallowing his pride and coming with a clear image of how his dick would have looked sheathed in Mingyu’s mouth if they hadn’t been interrupted.

All in all, Mingyu had fulfilled his needs even if not in person.

“It’s not. I just wanted to come and see you. Do you think I’d be here if I didn’t want to?” Mingyu asks, brows and eyes heavy.

That’s an understatement. Wonwoo can’t quite picture the self-sufficient male who had moved out of home at 19-years-old doing anything that won’t please him a hundred percent. Still, he takes his precious time to finally shake his head slowly, holding Mingyu’s eyes with his own.

The decision of not wanting to find himself dreaming of this missed opportunity tonight comes upon Wonwoo the moment they switch positions and the younger eases his grip around his waist at the same pace in which the elder presses himself closer. Everything will come back to him the same way it did the previous night and he craves a peaceful sleep.

Mingyu gives up of his brief fight against Wonwoo’s advances, looking that way that says he doesn’t know whether or not he should have. Wonwoo is aware that sometimes he’ll unintentionally play hard to get, but it’s the only way he’ll keep grounded – even during the times he doesn’t  _need_  Mingyu, this absurd yearning for him will come with full force and knock him down on the ring with a perfect hit.

He is gently urged to the sofa and laid on the cushioned surface, legs slightly spread to house Mingyu’s knee, clothes being tugged softly without intention of being pulled off, sharp teeth gnawing at his rosy lips. Wonwoo lets out a soft whimper, heedless of the risk of being caught – usually, the younger is the one who’s somewhat worried they’ll get caught having sex in semi-public spaces, even if said worry will only last until Wonwoo is touching him all over and getting him hard in his underwear.

He guesses the girls have no idea whatever goes on between them and being caught by them wouldn’t help on his endeavor in not embarrassing himself unless he doesn’t has a better option at hands.

The waiter withdraws just to tell him that he wants to kiss him forever. Wonwoo isn’t entirely sure what Mingyu is trying to convey with it, even if he nods in sequence, because kissing him forever sounds like a great idea.

“If I win this match, you’re letting me fuck your mouth,” Mingyu had said the previous night, seemingly catching on with either the yearning that abates Wonwoo whenever they’re together or his evolving urge to please.

“For someone who actually knows how to play soccer, you’re like… Bad, bad, bad at Fifa.” Wonwoo snorted at the time.

“Playing it in real life it’s different. I do win you sometimes. Gonna happen today.”

“What’s for me if you lose?”

“If I lose… Then I’m the one sucking the brains out of you, of course. And I’ll make it an awesome experience, you can look forward to it. Gonna do my best.”

“That means you’re not giving your best when you blow me every other day? That’s fucked up, Mingyu. I’m always giving you my best.”

And Mingyu snorted, kind of in a dreamy haze, and told him that he agreed he really was the best when it came to giving head before resuming their game. It made Wonwoo’s nostrils flare and his chest puff, proud of himself.

If on winter he had been satisfied with fun sexy time with Mingyu, now the sole thought of  _pleasing_  gives him a hard time. Some nights he’ll put his own needs aside in order to make Mingyu orgasm, his own being outright ripped off of his body for the sole motive of having the other falling apart because of him, because he has pleased him well.

As nearly every term of their arrangement, they haven’t approached it yet, but Wonwoo doesn’t feel as he is being judged whenever he decides to get Mingyu off without waiting to be touched in return. Mingyu will usually not only agree as well as love it, as long as Wonwoo can still enjoy being pinned onto the nearest surface and fucked onto it more times than not.

And Wonwoo certainly does. He supposes even the most eccentric ideas have an astounding high chance of sounding perfectly logical or at least worth of being considered if they were to be proposed by Mingyu. It’s not like he has preferences set in stone, especially when he can’t quite put a finger on why he became so eager to please Mingyu and yank from him his best orgasms to this day; sex with Mingyu is simply satisfying and that’s how much of an explanation his mind can offer to its own questions and doubts.

Since Mingyu happened, he has had the healthiest sex life. The other day, Seungcheol even mentioned, of course with a nasty smirk stretching his plump lips, how soft Wonwoo’s skin looked. He doubts it’s true though. Becoming aware that Mingyu is the best he’s ever had sex wise doesn’t mean Wonwoo is just allowing him inside every locked room in his life, ax to his wooden doors, or having the upper hand on every other aspect of his life.

Mingyu dives down and kisses him again, tongue slipping between his lips and teeth to taste him better, and left hand move underneath the fabric of his clothes to feel the skin of his navel and chest. His fingers work on the button of Wonwoo’s jeans and the zipper is pulled down in sequence.

It gives a good idea of what’s come. Thing is, it doesn’t.

The waistband of his black briefs comes to view, contrasting with the complexion of his navel, but Mingyu tortures him by licking the insides of his mouth, his lips and pressing a possessive hand to his hips. But this time they don’t do anything else.

They keep on kissing.

 

 

 

 

Joshua only has to inform the group there is a possibility of a swell on the verge of breaking at Jungmun this dawn after the longest month of April, and Wonwoo is grabbing his surfing stuff and throwing himself out his bedroom door, quietly not to wake up his parents when the sun hasn’t even rise yet.

The air is dry today and, crossing downtown’s silent and empty streets on the back of Jeonghan’s motorcycle, he has this inkling that the sun might even rise from the rooftops of buildings and houses as a halo of yellow light and fill the islanders with warmth in a few hours.

They’re the first to arrive at the beach (perks of being part of Joshua’s inner-posse), and although on days of flatness the haenyeos would be certainly around, today the sea is as empty as Chernobyl’s exclusion zone.

Wonwoo whistles at the sight of a clean set of waves forming close to the sand. Jeonghan points a finger to the point where the feet of Jungmun’s cliff meets the water. Whitewater only appears in the surface when the waves are breaking in sequence and from the sand he can see so many already.  

Up on the cliff where the trail down to the sand starts, bright headlights shine as a lighthouse, but neither he nor Jeonghan await to find out whose car has just arrived and wade inside the cool dark water, boards waxed and ready to be used since the last time they had a swell they could actually surf, nearly two weeks prior.

Gradually, the rest of the boys join them. First Joshua, early for his shit at the station but definitely dressed with his blood-red uniform, then the bungalows residents and Junhui and Soonyoung for last.

Wonwoo lies on his stomach on the deck of his wave and paddles up as fast as his arms allow him to.

Wonwoo hopes Mingyu will cower away before the imminent collision, but the younger is on a row, arms moving with speed to try and catch up with him. With the wave being faster than Mingyu, the boy starts kicking earlier to increase his speed and perhaps get ahead of Wonwoo. The later drops his head to parallel the water’s surface and paddles up aligned to where the peak of the wave will be.

Mingyu gets so close that Wonwoo can’t even angle his take off to the left, so when he kneels and pushes his left hand down on his board to try and align it to his preferred side, he almost loses balance and kneels too soon. The collision is imminent and they’re all wrong from the start because they can’t even get each other space to stand up properly.

In addition, that’s the moment Jeonghan comes out of nowhere and wipes both of them so hard it gives Wonwoo whiplash.

He can’t see clearly who does it, but he can definitely feel something poking repeatedly at his ribs while his arms continue restrained by someone else’s own. He has been wiped out so hard from his board that the lip of his wave had pushed him further down, face to the bottom and breath being knocked out of his lungs after being forcibly dragged by the implacable sea current that doesn’t seemed to appease even after he was underwater and far from the surface.

Upside down and trying not to panic, Wonwoo aims a vigorous kick towards whoever is attached to him and feels the body float away from his immediately. He does a back-flip and paddles his arms and kicks his legs to push his body upwards, where he can finally see the doubtless sunshine reflecting as crystals on the water’s surface.

Finally emerging, Wonwoo inhales deeply and breathy for having been holding his breath for too long and a coughing Mingyu breaks onto the surface besides him.

“Mingyu–” Wonwoo interrupts himself to pant, and then continues, “what the fuck?”

Mingyu settles for refusing to supply a plausible excuse for going after Wonwoo’s wave and end up tangled with him as Christmas lights long forgotten in a box under someone’s bed, but dips his head again, leaving a blank faced Wonwoo behind.

When he emerges again, he has his cheeks puffed. Wonwoo tries to swim away, right arm reaching further, but the other moves faster and attaches himself to his shoulders, arms around his neck. He spits water in his ear and the latter groans in disgust over Mingyu’s playful giggle.

The younger wraps his legs around his torso to keep him in place and Wonwoo feels his body sinking under the weight of a new body clinging to his own. “This is for being greedy. Burning me like that, not even respecting the hierarchy!”

“You’re the one who burned me! Jeonghan-hyung, that dickhead, did too!” Wonwoo pants again and Mingyu laughs in his ear, threatening to strangle him with his arms.

Joshua comes over them in sequence, upper body bent over nothing as he seats on his board and jabs his hands in the water to carry it closer to them. He gives them a long glance that’s heavy with judgment. Wonwoo can see the lifeguard living within him in this moment.

Once, Joshua had shared his dearest memories of learning how to surf in between the stakes under Venice Beach’s pier back in America as a child, and Wonwoo had learned everything about Joshua’s relationship with the sea. He never ceases to find how funny it is that all his friends share the same passion for surfing, even if not the same style – while surfing has been part of Joshua’s life since birth, Junhui has only learned to surf after moving to the island and learning their town is not a place for those who are afraid of the water; Jeonghan, Seungcheol, Chan and Soonyoung are the type to go after the biggest waves in sight, but some of them, such as Seokmin, will happily settle for being laid back, accepting to miss one or two in order to drop one that suits his skills better.

“Kids, quit playing around. Are you two ok?”

Mingyu nods with a smirk on his face but Wonwoo can’t answer right away, not with the other still on his back, legs wrapped around his waist. He can’t breathe properly and his tongue tastes salty and awful, as if he has licked a turtle.

Joshua reaches over and bundles the leash of Mingyu’s board around his fingers, then pulls it closer until he can grab the deck by the edges. He hands it to him and Mingyu finally frees Wonwoo from his deadly grasp to plop his arms on his surfboard and push himself up to climb, body swaying side to side along with the water.

Wonwoo looks up. The dawn of the morning has been left behind one or two hours ago and a colony of seagulls fly moderately near the water to get fed.

“Woo, your board is being drifted to the sand. Should’ve been using your leash,” Joshua chides shaking his head enough to throw his hair to the side and raises a finger to point the direction. “Have you ever surfed before? Are you new to this or…?”

Wonwoo doesn't need to check it to known he's fucked. If Joshua says your surfboard is at least a hundred meters from you, than it means it is. No doubt about that.

He curses with frustration, reckoning how far from the beach they are. He’ll be a tired mess when he reaches his board.

Wonwoo waits for the next wave to give him a little push and swims towards the sand. Upon his arrival, he jogs to where his blue surfboard is and hears Mingyu insistently calling his name.

Since almost losing his board on fall, Mingyu had visited the surf shop before his shift to ask for Junhui’s help to glue the nose of his board back on. The result had been the beautiful, completely fixed surfboard that Wonwoo suspects to have now climbed Mingyu’s list of favorites and which the younger carries under his arm as he approaches him to ask if he’s okay.

“Hey, are you fine?”

"Yeah, great. It was nothing." Even if his answer is snappy and he feels quite waspish at the moment, Wonwoo still would have sent Mingyu a reassuring glance over his shoulder if he didn’t feel a sting on his possibly strained neck.

He inspects his board. The leash is intact, not torn at all, and there are no new apparent bump marks below the blue paint although he can see the orange edges peeling where he’s sure they weren’t during winter. When the deck reflects the timid sunrays, it’s clear he should have rubbed wax on it better and spared himself from falling half a dozen times in the past two hours.

"Mad you missed the wave?" Mingyu asks and jogs towards him.

Wonwoo spins around to welcome him in his personal space and kicks around to open space between a few pebbles and bury the nose of his surfboard on the sand with a sharp and pointed thrust of his arms. Mingyu looks ridiculous on his lime-green boardshorts and this alone can dissipate a good share of the hostility building up in his guts.   

"I'm not. It be like that sometimes, I get it,” he clarifies and adds with bitterness, “shouldn't have gone after my wave though, wouldn't want to see my dongsaeng getting hurt.”

“Our wave, you mean.”

“Really, Mingyu?” Wonwoo drops his arms to his sides. “Jeonghan-hyung must also think the wave was his even if he has clearly butted in out of the blue, just so you know! If you two haven’t stuck your noses on my business then maybe you would have seen me paddling up in front of you! You know the first surfer to get to the wave gets to ride it!”

Mingyu scoffs. Wonwoo doesn’t hear it per se, and he definitely would because the beach remains as forsaken as before and the only noises come from the crash of the waves and eventual shouts coming from the water, but somehow he knows he does when his kind eyes narrow. He comes even closer after a moment, a lonely brow shooting up in defiance. 

“What’s the use of being ahead if you can’t even ride it without falling face flat?” the younger recalls. “Hyung’s the one who lost balance and got both of us wiped out. If Jeonghan-hyung hadn’t appeared then I would’ve taken the lead and rode it smoothly before you even tried to!"

"Yah!” Wonwoo tip-toes and proceeds to try and knock some sense in Mingyu’s head. “Easy to do well when you're not the one being burned by the haole on your dick!"

"You would know damn well about  _being_   _on_ a haole's dick. You always seem to have fun on mine, eh?" Mingyu retorts folding his arms over his chest, chin up to add more centimeters to his height, acting as an overgrown baby.

It’s a really convincing argument and Wonwoo is left wishing he had a good clapback, so he will just give it to him this time. “Don’t flatter yourself,” is all he manages.

"Lover's quarrel, uh?" Soonyoung calls behind them as he untucks his arms from his swimsuit and then tugs it low enough to cover his body only from the waist down. His favorite yellow surfboard is already tucked where the sand is damp, tattling on how many time he has been witnessing their bickering.

Albeit their friends seem to forget Wonwoo and Mingyu’s status as more than friends on a daily basis, on rare occasions they’ll bring that up as jokes that sometimes not even Wonwoo seem to understand. He doesn’t mind, Soonyoung doesn't get it either; they have been doing this for quite some time now and still manage to friendly competing over video game matches or perfect waves without it having nothing to do with sex, let alone love.

They know how to separate things just fine.

"Hey, can you do me a favor and get fucked?" Wonwoo addresses Soonyoung and playfully bares his teeth to Mingyu before sinking down to sit on his heels and give his surfboard the attention it needs at the moment. "Besides, I'd never get into a fight with Mingyu, he’s a hundred and eight-six centimeters of muscles," he says, even if he can’t say he himself has actually paid enough attention to the body in question on many opportunities before winter’s closing.

Wonwoo envies, and that’s for sure, Mingyu’s height and the centimeters he has in addition to his, and he supposes that mentioning that the male has a killer body is an understatement, but eyes addled with lust are as good as a mind fogged with liquor, thus, watching the younger get the two of them off whilst naked doesn’t counts for anything and never will.

Wonwoo’s insides warm up as he puts a finger onto this matter and his mind is all out of sorts, after all he only knows three types of warmness – first anger, then the one provided by the sun and the last, lately intrinsically tied to Mingyu’s talents on bed. This time, what he feels doesn’t fit any of the options.

Returning to where he left off, Wonwoo moves his eyes from Mingyu to Soonyoung, still distanced from them but willing to hear his best friend’s frivolous observations. “He could put me to sleep with one accidental punch."

Mingyu snorts, this time for real, not as a figment of Wonwoo’s imagination. “Glad we’ve finally agreed that if I was to beat you up I’d do it easily even if you put on a fight. Only took you what, six months?” Mingyu snorts, this time for real, not as a figment of Wonwoo’s imagination. “Remember this next time you go after my wave by the way!

"Please, get fucked you too," he bristles giving him the finger.

It’s the last they talk about stolen waves.

The swell is gone by the time another group of acquaintance surfers come over the beach asking all the questions every surfer deprived from waves does. When Joshua’s shift at the station starts, they task him to provide the answers and their group splits so they can finally go back to reality and start their days away from the beach.

The newly promoted Seungcheol is pissed and promises he isn’t covering up for them in a display of bitterness for not being there with them to witness the impromptu swell, but Wonwoo gets away with it by mentioning that his friend is his favorite nature ranger, who knows so much about the weather, the clouds, the sea conditions, whether the bees are appearing earlier than they should or the moonwalkers perching over the kitchen windowsill this year have bloomed a tad less yellow than last spring.

 

 

 

 

 

After their morning at the beach, the thought of working his way up to focusing – really focusing, it is – on Mingyu’s physical particularities only crosses his mind again briefly for the upcoming days and nights, but it turns out Mingyu himself brings the subject up, even if unconsciously.

Watching a movie by themselves at the bungalow with Minghao having left the living room to nap in his bedroom right after Hansol’s departure, it hadn’t taken long until they had his hands brushing up each other’s necks, waist, thighs and all over their bodies eventually. But grinding on one another turned unsatisfactory when the need of having the flesh underneath their clothing articles touched grew stronger.

Being pulled onto a familiar position on Mingyu’s lap, Wonwoo was kept in place with a steady arm circling his waist and another hand invading the confines of his pants with expertise. He had gotten easily overwhelmed with the tongue shoved inside his mouth whilst his hips jutted upwards and fucked Mingyu’s fist, causing friction and making the younger even harder in his joggers.

After coming, grains of sand stuck to the skin of his knees as he could be found kneeling on the living room floor between the parted legs of the one and only Mingyu to take care of the hard-on tenting in his underwear by lazily bobbing his head on his length to his orgasm. The hand touching the back of his neck wouldn’t pressure him to fasten the pace, but it tightened just slightly when Mingyu asked him how he learned to suck dick like that.

Wonwoo hadn’t bothered enough to reply, the weight on his tongue and the way the boy was sat on the caramel sofa watching him with sheer amazement being all the shit in which he had been concentrating.

That’s a good explanation about how they ended up completely absorbed in themselves for at least an hour and, now, what wouldn't Wonwoo give to feel his body cool down. The weather has been warmer and he only seems to acknowledge it now, even if Seungcheol has mentioned it at least fifteen times during their past shifts at the bakery. He hadn't felt the change in temperature but he feels now and he urges to shred his flesh with his nails to let his insides breathe.

He is supposed to feel lethargic after all the stuff they have done, but the temperature has left him restless. That’s when Mingyu reaches a hand out.

Having Mingyu slouched on the sofa as Wonwoo has his profile stared to and traced as if he’s being mapped from head to toes is a paradox, equal parts familiar and foreign, expected and sudden. It all depends on the circumstances, on whether they are starting or finishing, only by themselves or with company, if it's rough or soft and so on. Wonwoo would be feeling shivers run down his spine at the intimate contact in any other circumstance or if those were anybody else's fingers brushing the sensitive skin of his neck.

This time, however, he stops panting and shrieking on the sofa immediately and his entire body goes stiff.

"Does it still hurt?"

"What—What hurts?" he frowns, eyes rolling to the ceiling despite the weird angle. One day a huge, merciless storm will destroy the old bungalow and they'll wake up under a whole feet of water. This will be the worst day of Mingyu’s life and the thought makes Wonwoo a tad down.

"Your neck. Strained it that morning at the beach, didn't you? After going after our wave."

“Mine. It was my wave,” he mumbles quietly. “Isn’t strained, just... Fucked up I guess. I'm okay, doesn't hurt as much as it did when happened. I’m okay. I mean it."

The soft touch of Mingyu's fingertips rubbing circles on his jawline has him craning his head to expose more of his neck out of reflex. "Cute chin. Very square, very manly,” Mingyu praises warmly.

Wonwoo drops his head to stare at Mingyu then and, my God, he looks so put together whilst Wonwoo is a train wreck. It leaves him to wonder how Mingyu can look so serene and even cute in his post-orgasmic haze, stretched arm pillowing his head on the back of the sofa.

He takes in the waiter’s bushy brows, the bright, kind nature of his eyes not contrasting with his muscular arms and the thickness of his neck, but certainly adding up to his beauty. His black hair fits him better mussed than styled for his shifts at the club. He takes in the mole on his cheek, as well as the other three on the tip of his elongated nose, and everything else that he has seen that morning at the beach and had filled his insides with peculiar warmth.

Mingyu decides this is a good of a time as any raises his eyes for they have been following the patterns drawn by his fingertips on his skin and stares up at Wonwoo with his boy-ish, often cute smile with his pearly canines poking out. Wonwoo looks on adoringly, unsure if he’ll ever be able to look at him in any other way that’s exclusively sexual. 

"Cute fangs," Wonwoo says quietly and before he can help himself, "very sharp."

Mingyu hums and his fingers slide by accident, pressing the skin harder. Wonwoo whimpers and presses his eyes shut but ends up letting out a breathy and short laughter.

"Such a brute, Mingyu," he says, shying away from his touch although not enough to not having Mingyu reaching out to continue touching.

"Sorry, got distracted with this cute neck. You are cute all over," the younger says with a grin that isn’t apologetic in the slightest. The corners of his lips lift upwards and this is the smile of a boy who’d rather not sabotage himself by being ruined by fear.

Wonwoo shifts uncomfortably on the sofa again. The pants loosely hugging his legs have become all rough touches against his skin. Mingyu's fingertip lazily grazes hot patterns on his skin and the heat building inside him becomes unbearable.

Both things combined seem to burn him alive.

Their movie ended sometime after they had engaged in more interesting activities but the TV is still on and in the background they announce a new movie yet to start. Outside, the sun goes down and a lonely cricket chirps close to the ajar windows, but not even a single blow of breeze coming inside. Wonwoo wishes he could change the direction in which the wind blows.

"Mingyu. I'm hot," he informs, not sure of what do about himself.

"Narcissistic.”

The heat increases and Wonwoo's body becomes a devilish sauna. He desperately needs to leave not only the living room but also claw his way out of his skin if possible.

"Yes, I’m an attention hoe, you should know by now. But, uh, no. What I mean is that my body is hot in temperature. I think I need a cold shower to cool down."

"Go on.” Mingyu removes his hand from his skin and keeps to himself but the temperature does not decrease. “We keep the spare towels below the sink."

Wonwoo does as he says and trudges straight into the shower, where he jumps head first below beads of water.

Granted, the meteorological conditions change from this night on. It is midst May and the rainy season is closer than ever, but in the morning they say in the radio that the air will remain as humid as it has been since April. Blue skies and warmest weather are forecasted, thus, the Island residents should expect the temperature to increase considerably sometime in the following weeks.

Progressively all the dullness is replaced by days that invite the island residents to leave their houses and soak up the sun that rises and glimmers with urgency every morning. The clouds are no longer heavy and dark but white, and they drift lazily across the blue sky every day, from dawn to dusk. The sunsets are bright and the golden sunlight reaches nearly every corner of the island whilst open windows bang back and forth at the mercy of the ever-present breeze coming from the sea.

A bunch of teens claim the condemned building of the fire department the new big thing, oblivious to the fact that Wonwoo and his friends used to reunite behind the place before it was cool. The kids start to re-group on the streets more often to double-dutch on the sidewalks or play hide and seek between the bushes and camphor trees–their screams waking Mingyu up every other weekend he is off and can sleep ‘till late– and the Island receives a whole new set of early tourists who seem to enjoy the bakery deserts even more than the elderly residents.

The moon confesses to the Island every night and lingers more than it's supposed to every dawn. There’s a bit of sand on the floor of each store or apartment and the surf shop runs out of wax for a whole week and every surfer in a 10 kilometers ratio pocket candles before heading to the beach.

Jeonghan trims his bangs and Hansol’s, Minghao’s and Junhui’s shirts become a case of mere formality, a rare sight guarded for when they are obligated to show up at their respective jobs. One morning, however, Wonwoo visits the surf shop and finds his best friend on the back of said shop, nose and mouth covered with a mask for health purposes whilst sanding the rough and uneven edges of a new surfboard deck on the back - no t-shirts in sight.

Soonyoung’s knees get even more scrapped the night that both he and Wonwoo decide that riding their skateboards on the asphalt whilst holding tight to the windows of Jihoon’s Honda is a good idea, sort of matching with the new cut Chan sports on his right hand when he wounds himself on a bottle. Mingyu assures him he’s lucky summer is near, because his granddad has always told him that salty water can cure almost every minor inconvenience in life. Seungkwan rolls his eyes at this, earning experience as he fixes their wounds with fake stitches on a starry night they spend sprawled on the bungalow’s trim lawn.

Chan’s hand heals with astounding agility although he is a self-proclaimed left-handed now.

The birthdays of Soonyoung and Junhui, who have been born exactly five days and almost two thousand kilometers apart from each other, but happening to become best friends in Jeju, have always closed the season and, like clockwork, on every month of June Soonyoung, Junhui, Jihoon, Seungkwan, Chan, Jeonghan, Seungcheol and Wonwoo reunite to do something cool as celebration.

Back in the day, their teenage selves more than once would understand ‘fun’ as walking a thirty minutes track to one of the tallest points of the Island to see their hometown from above. On some years, when Wonwoo’s family had plans to travel during the summer break, they would celebrate his birthday too as a way of lessening how miserable he felt for leaving the island during the best season of the year.    

This year, for the first time it’s more than the eight of them, and ‘fun’ means playing Uno in the living room of the red bricks apartment complex. At midnight on the dot, the unmistakable sound of a cork popping off had filled the ambient and the cheapest brand of champagne Soonyoung could afford with his weekly income at the dancing studio started to rain. The birthday boy had jumped up and down repeatedly on the sofa, so excitedly that Wonwoo had wrongly predicted his head would soon hit the ceiling while he drenched the others with the bubbling beverage.

The boys were celebrating and all hell seemed to be breaking loose around them. At some point, Seungkwan had slipped on the fair amount of melting vanilla ice cream on the floor amongst the cards and Junhui was pinned against the wall as Minghao held him there so Jeonghan and the others could attack his face with chocolate covered fingers, whilst Junhui’s hands tried to keep them away even if he couldn’t stop laughing his happy and content laugh.

The alcohol has sunk on everyone’s system in record time, too, and Junhui comes around to the sofa and kneels by Wonwoo’s side . He places his hands on Wonwoo’s arm for balance and throws a leg over the furniture, positioning himself behind him.

He allows his friend to give him a back hug although Junhui isn’t capable of gauging his strength and ends up crushing Wonwoo’s thin frame with his long, strong limbs more times than not.

Junhui hands him the thin blunt between his fingers and places his chin on his shoulder, head craned. “You’re cute jeans,” he whispers the compliment in Wonwoo’s ear.

Wonwoo gives a hit to the blunt and the tip lights up an even livelier tone of orange, fire consuming the rolling paper uniformly and with eagerness. He hollows his cheeks and draws the smoke into his mouth, then hands the blunt back, losing interest way too quickly.

Wisps of smoke escape from his lips as he inhales it directly into his lungs. Then he reclines in Junhui’s embrace to make his body comfortable and pushes his friend’s deeper on the sofa. Junhui has just come out of the shower and unlike himself, whose shirt had gradually soaked up, the boy smells clean and fresh. “You’re cutter je–“ he pauses, the words catching in his tongue because he doesn’t know what being cute jeans means, “why are we cute jeans?”

“We just are.” Junhui takes a hit too and lifts his arm when Joshua passes them behind the sofa of the apartment. Joshua gladly accepts a puff and goes on about his business somewhere else.

Music booms loudly through two wireless speakers and the neighbors are two songs away from banging on the door to complain, which Wonwoo predicts Jihoon will answer by shamelessly mentioning all the moans and noise of headboard banging on the walls and have the neighbors putting their tails between their legs and running to their apartment again, where they’ll have to deal with their small celebration all night long.

Sitting on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest, Soonyoung slurries on his words after having consumed alcohol and finished at least two blunts majorly by himself, cheeks as red as when he spends the entire day under the sun. The blue on his hair is fairly recent, but the mix of sun, salty water and sun wax has been fading it and revealing the dirty bleached strands underneath the dye; the blue is barely there, unlike his ideas about the civil vigilance, that will eventually become the subject any given time he is way  _too on_  for his own good.

Seungkwan has his own brows furrowed, calling it bullshit with his judgmental stare, but still offering Soonyoung all the attention his conspiracy theories demand. Hansol falls backwards on the mat, crossed legs shooting up as he crackles so loud it startles everybody else.

“You know what would be even funnier than Soonyoung’s conspiracies?” Jeonghan asks sliding from the sofa to sit directly by Seungcheol’s side. “To get Gyu faded just like the rest of us,” he proposes like is no big deal but Wonwoo notices how he elbows Seungcheol before putting an arm around his shoulders.

The brief pause is so subtle that the others don’t notice, but no one returns to paying attention to their game after it either.

Mingyu, distraught by the strings of his hoodie while he sits on the floor with his back against the wall to the bedroom entrance, in the same position from when he stopped dancing, grinding and body-rolling with Minghao to a song that had a faster-tempo, doesn’t mind disregarding the idea. “I don't smoke anything, ever,” he says.

Wonwoo had found it amazing, quietly watching Mingyu enjoying himself with Minghao the entire time. Mingyu looks his best day after day and Wonwoo has no idea how he manages this.   

Wonwoo’s and Jeonghan’s aside, other several pairs of eyes land on him in disbelief. Mingyu avert his eyes from his strings as if noticing the loud sounds his friends have been emitting non-stop since eight-o’clock have disappeared. They have already finished one of the three bottles of cheap vodka and even Wonwoo is a bit surprised to learn they have decided to pay so much attention to Mingyu’s words.

Chan should already been knackered by now, however, his eyes are wide-open and a tad surprised with the sudden revelation. The boy isn’t one to smoke himself, but he’d end up doing it indirectly whenever he hanged out with them and end up being considered a stoner for all intents and purposes.

“Even better. I say let’s shotgun him!” Seungcheol slaps his own thighs and it echoes round the living room. “Let’s vote!”

“Let’s not,” Wonwoo tries to dismiss it before the others decide to jump the bandwagon.

Even if he cannot be bothered with whatever shit goes down whenever the thirteen of them are reunited and thinks it’s cool to be around them to talk nothing in particular, listen to Hansol’s infinite mix of chill surf jams and lo-fi hip hop (the kid’s a musical encyclopedia, he swears) and drink cheap booze, but Mingyu isn’t a heavy drinker whatsoever, and in retrospect, Wonwoo can’t remember seeing him smoking in any of the nights in which their group would reunite. He really doesn’t think coaxing Mingyu to get high for the first time is the best idea, especially if Jeonghan and Seungcheol have teamed up to come up with it.

“I don’t think I agree with this idea at all.”

“Wonwoo, you’re sort of killing the mood here! Protective much?” Jeonghan asks aiming for Wonwoo’s embarrassment, but Wonwoo has had a hundred past experiences to learn his twisted techniques.

“And rightfully so. This is common sense.”

Mingyu watches the back and forth cluelessly but decides to add his two cents. “Rightfully so? What’s it to be protective of? Now I definitely want to try, but only this once.”

“Then please someone let him!” Seungkwan encourages and Wonwoo feels the need to kick him directly on the shins.

He points an accusing finger in their direction and wiggles it in the air, even if his champagne coated, chocolate stained clothes are enough punishment for the younger.

“I should have never saved you when you fell from your nursery.”

Chan sighs impatiently, knees pulled in and arms resting on it, eyes dropped to the floor and cheeks puffed. “We’re no lost boys. What the heck is hyung even talking about, man…”

“But,” Mingyu interrupts, “I want Wonwoo-hyung to do it, I don’t trust any of you for this task but him.”

“Me? Why? Were you even listening to what I said in the past minute? It’s a bad idea.”

“What’s all this drama for, Wonwoo? He just said he wants it! We’re not holding him at gun point,” Joshua points out cradling his head on Soonyoung’s lap and the others agree. “Not like it’ll hurt him or anything.”

No one’s backing Wonwoo up in this, so he jolts up to detach his back from Junhui’s chest and stretches his arm out, palm of his hand turned to the floor and fingers curling repeatedly. “Come here, Mingyu,” he calls, resigned.

“No,” Jeonghan protests adamantly, sending Wonwoo a sultry gaze over his right shoulder. “You have to kneel in front of him to do it properly! It’s the only opportunity we’ll have to show Gyu what he’s missing, so would you do us a favor and make it worth? Thanks a lot, you fucker.”

Wonwoo narrows his eyes at that. Agreeing to be part of it isn't enough, apparently. Jeonghan wants it to happen on his own terms on top of that.

“Is hyung trying to gather up some wank material by coaxing me onto a compromising position with Mingyu or something?” he bristles, wishing he could kick Jeonghan on the shins too. In all honesty, all of his friends deserve to be aligned and receive at least a kick. Jeonghan deserves two. With him you never know when an innocent joke will be taken too far; all you can do is hope for the best.

Wonwoo drags himself from the sofa to the floor in the most dramatic fashion listening to drunk boys pleading for them not to fuck in front of them because Chan gets impressed easily and repeating other dumb remarks alike, and crawls towards Mingyu with his head hanging low between his shoulders, Junhui’s blunt pressed between his lips.

“As if I'd let any of you watch me having sex for free.”

Wonwoo gestures Mingyu to part his legs so he can get accommodated in between them and sits on his heels.

“Who on their right mind would pay to watch you have sex? That's just not realistic. Your brain is bigger than your dick, and your brain is like this,” Minghao lets out one of his witty remarks and holds his index and thumb up, leaving only a small gap between his fingers, “size. Besides, the bungalow is made of clapboards, very thin ones by the way, and sometimes the noise will escape to the room next door usually at the worst moments, like when I'm ringing my parents or trying to sleep after an entire night handling tipsy bon-vivants who tell the same joke fifteen times per hour at the bar. Anyone willing to hear you and Wonwoo-hyung having sex can come over to my room anytime.”

Seungcheol kicks the air.

“Yah! My dad is probably one of these bon-vivants you mentioned. Show some respect!”

It’s a silly banter, however the first time someone has openly mentioned their relationship in front of everybody else.

They’d have to be clueless to an offensive degree not to notice Wonwoo and Mingyu’s agreement after all these months, but Wonwoo is glad they at least manage to filter their words, comments and opinions when they’re sober and in their presence. Wonwoo himself feels a bit hazy, not entirely high but getting there in baby steps, and thus can’t bring himself to scold the group for bringing the subject up.

Wonwoo cocks a brow and stares Mingyu in the eyes.

"Are you sure you want to be as stupid as me and do this?”

“Just do it. Let’s deflower his virgin lungs!” Jihoon cheers behind them and Mingyu cranes his neck to grimace at him from over Wonwoo’s shoulders.

Seokmin proceeds to explain to Jihoon both his, Minghao and Mingyu’s adventures with weed then. Apparently they had done it together on their first time, but Mingyu had had issues with it and outright rejected getting high ever again.

“Just take it slow when you’re inhaling otherwise your throat will hurt and you’ll feel it for hours. Don’t hurry yourself up.”

Then he cups Mingyu’s face with his free hand and makes him look his way. So far Mingyu hasn’t stopped him and he interprets it as a positive signal to give it a hit. The older holds the smoke in his mouth until it cools down and tugs his face closer until he can feel the ghost touch of Mingyu’s lips on his. Parting his lips, he closes the distance for once and all, even if he doesn't necessarily has too, and blows inside using Mingyu’s own parted lips as channel.

Without hesitation, Mingyu inhales it directly into his lungs in the same pace in which Wonwoo exhales, and it works better than the latter has anticipated. Apparently the younger has paid attention to his best friend’s getting high in front of him several times and doesn’t even needs Wonwoo to guide him through the experience.

Mingyu fastens his lips following Wonwoo suit, but the older lingers nearby instead of returning to his seat at the sofa. He wants to be sure Mingyu is ok. The younger’s eyes are glossy but at least at first sight he seems perfectly fine, so Wonwoo decides to shift his position and sink directly on the floor to give him space.

“How do you feel?” Seungcheol asks sweetly. It’s unexpected but Wonwoo can’t care sufficiently. ”Has Wonwoo made it nice for you?” he teases.

“Hyung. Hyungs. Good try on making me high, but your weed isn’t as potent as you assume. Wonwoo-hyung was quite convincing so I’ll give it to him, but I’ve drank stronger stuff.”

“That’s anticlimactic!”

Wonwoo can’t see Jeonghan properly but he nearly hears his eyes snapping to the ceiling after Mingyu’s feedback. Unlike Seungcheol, he sounds frustrated.

It gets quieter after this.

Not inside the apartment, because all their friends’ voices rise in volume as Jeonghan and Seungcheol announce they had all the  _wild draw four cards_  in their possession this entire time and they’re all questioning the chances of this being an innocent coincidence when it comes to the pair, but between the two of them, who remain riveted to their spots on the carpet.

Conspiring to distract the others and steal all wild draw four cards from the deck or not, for Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s idea of getting Wonwoo to shotgun Mingyu, the former isn’t exactly thankful. Getting the others distracted at his and Mingyu’s expense makes him roll his eyes.

“You can’t be serious.”

“About what?”

“’Bout the weed. You were looking at me all giddy thirty seconds ago. I know inhaling it like that is different from actually smoking, but regardless.”

“I was being serious, I swear. Wasn’t because of the weed, it was something else.”

Mingyu shrugs and folds his arms over his chest, muscles stretching his shirt nicely.

“Which something else?” he presses. Tell me.”

Mingyu shakes his head and sinks lower on the floor, posture a mess and knees bent upwards. “You’re to blame. Hyung made it nicer than I was actually expecting to–”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Have you ever been shotgun before?”

“I haven’t.”

“Then you wouldn’t possibly know."

“You got me there.”

Mingyu rests his head against the wall and sizes him up and down shamelessly. Wonwoo has to stop a shiver to take him by assault.

“So hot,” the younger mumbles out in the air, but his eyes are unwavering hooked on Wonwoo’s face and there’s so much they hold at the moment. “Hyung, you make me want to jump on you sometimes. Wanna do it even when I shouldn’t, like tonight. Not the best one to get worked up because of you.”

“What’s wrong with tonight? Looks as good as any to me.”

Mingyu continues to look at him with his chin angled up, blatantly hitting on and just about to eat him up with his eyes. Wonwoo may not be on his most sober state, but he recognizes flirting when he sees it.

“You’re high and I had a lot to drink too,” he says, “I don’t think we should do that.”

“Do you worry the alcohol will lower your capacity on bed—your performance or what?” he asks, feisty and determined to force an answer out of Mingyu. “Are you afraid it won’t get up, is that it? You have me and I can definitely take care of it.”

They have done it before. Either sober, high or drunk – it hasn’t mattered on their first times. This isn’t an issue in which Wonwoo wants to get too invested, but having Mingyu dodging his advances (which is shitty enough) whilst he himself doesn’t have any restrictions has him not getting what’s so different about tonight.

“It will get up.” Mingyu huffs out a laugh as if Wonwoo has told him a funny joke, and corrects himself, “it  _is_. That’s so not what worries me. The thing is I don’t want hyung doing anything he might regret later, when sober. I also want to have a thousand percent sure I'm treating you the right way. Can’t take you home because I’m trying to make things right, trying not to be a jerk because I’m not one, not really,” he unveils effortlessly and it’s good that Wonwoo is at a loss of words because he fears he would have ruined it with his babbling.

Another loud pop has him jolting up in surprise and almost knocking himself backwards on the floor. The pair look up and metallic ticker paper start falling on their shoulders, heads and laps. Wonwoo isn’t familiar with the origins of it neither who started throwing all that paper around, but that’s right, around midnight Seokmin had tried very hard to make the thing work, to no avail.

In front of him, Mingyu bites his lips to suppress a smile. It has Wonwoo’s heart racing inside his ribcage. He’s either having a weird reaction to the weed or he feels like he has just discovered something precious. In the morning, if his sober self holds all this infatuation that fills his being against him, he’ll blame it exclusively on the hallucinogen that clouds his mind.

He shrinks his shoulders and closes his eyes in embarrassment for jumping so high because of thicker paper. Over Mingyu’s guffaws, Wonwoo swears he hears banging on the apartment door but no one bothers in putting their party on hold in order to fight the neighbors, not even Jihoon.

“Hyung, I have to go home,” Mingyu says shooting him an assuring smile and drops his hands to Wonwoo’s lap to fiddle with squares of thicker paper. He rubs the palm of his hands over his dark pants, digging his fingers on the fabric.

“Now? Is it because of me?” Wonwoo shifts his position too, sitting cross-legged on the floor and informing Mingyu that he has no plans on leaving if he decides to stay too. Mingyu retreats his hands. “You sure you feel like going? You just had your first – no, second – contact with drugs. I should be watching you in case you do have a bad trip and start to feel like shit.”

“No, no. There’s nothing to do with you. I just have an early shift tomorrow and I don’t wanna wake up with a hangover. Take me to the door?”

Wonwoo does just that and walks him out, because their friends are too busy to even notice their absence. When they’re just about out the apartment door, Mingyu stretches his arms out and holds him inside of his embrace.

It’s unexpected and brief. Wonwoo isn’t even sure he has hugged him back when Mingyu’s arms fall back to each side of his tall body and gives a step backwards in the direction of the stairways, hurrying to get to the first floor and not looking back.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Even if the Island has been granted with summer-worthy days for weeks now, there is a shadow looming on Wonwoo’s day the next morning since the moment he wakes up. Still on bed, he is willing to put the blame entirely on Soonyoung and Junhui for providing him double the hangover he’d got if they had not been born within five days apart from each other. Then, after eventually pushing himself out of bed and feeling the weight of the three hours he had of sleep, Wonwoo also blames Soonyoung and Junhui, but this time for being such good alchemists in terms of weed.

Nearing the end of an overall odd shift after missing his bus and waiting additional twenty-minutes for the next, the bakery being short of people because Dahyun is absent and him having been paying no attention to the customers, Wonwoo’s foolproof hangover recipe is solicited on a call with Soonyoung, who can’t go to work in the next morning until Wonwoo helps him out.

And help Wonwoo is willing to because it’s his best friend’s birthday after all, even if he drags himself up five flights of stairs and faces a shit-looking Soonyoung when he makes for the ajar door with Seokmin on his tow.

“You should thank us on your knees for being such good friends. Seungcheol-hyung had just offered to treat us to dinner,” he states pushing himself inside the apartment and Jihoon raises his head from the book he reads whilst sitting on the windowsill.

Seokmin darts towards the sofa and lands on top of Soonyoung, who lies on his belly. The younger coos poking his cheeks and Soonyoung groans and breathes deeply, but doesn’t try to push him off. He’s too weak for this.

Wonwoo tosses his jacket on top of them and makes it to the kitchen to get everything done.

Seokmin is just finishing explaining that he is there to play on their Xbox when Wonwoo returns to the living room. Soonyoung is seated on the sofa now but he still looks like shit as he downs his vitamin like a desperate castaway.

“Easy there, man,” he advises wiping his wet palms on his dark jeans pants. Noticing Seokmin has the control in his hands and is already choosing his players without having waited for him, Wonwoo points out that the man is playing with professionals and therefore should show some respect. “If you want to act like a savage then you should go back home and play with Minghao and Gyu or something. We take it seriously here.”

“Don’t you mention those traitors, hyung. They really can’t be trusted. Hao and Sollie are hanging out somewhere and haven’t bothered to neither share their whereabouts nor invite me,” he replies promptly and purses his lips.

“Ooh!” Jihoon coos from the window with a silly smirk. “Date night.”

“Gyu told you about his date too?” Seokmin asks, distracted with his Fifa. “I mean, that’s just expected. Guess he’s kinda pumped about going out with this girl ‘cos he even got an early shift today.”

Well. Wonwoo doesn’t know how he feels about the shared information.

An entire minute passes and Jihoon has even corrected Seokmin and explained he meant that Hansol and Minghao were on a date night, not Mingyu, and still, Wonwoo doesn’t know how he feels about Mingyu going out on a date.

He just stands there, until he eventually tells the others he has to go because something came up. Wonwoo crosses the door listening to Jihoon call him back because he forgot his jacket and yells from the hallway that he will get it another time, because he really should go now.

Jogging the five floors two steps at time, Wonwoo doesn’t know why he’s in such a rush. So, even when he gets inside a cab, he doesn’t urge the driver to pass all the red lights.

No, he enjoys watching the sun setting during his journey.

Like that, night has taken over and the interior of the vehicle is swallowed in complete darkness when the car pulls up and Wonwoo calmly pays the driver and walks past the bungalow’s driveway and the lawn. Seokmin’s green bike is outside, as well as Minghao’s favorite 6’5” surfboard, tucked inside his skeleton stretch bag, and the lights inside the bungalow are still on but the house is as silent as the first night Wonwoo been there.

He climbs the porch steps and knocks on the door three times, aware of the person padding close to the entrance, their shadow noticeable through the crack below the door.

Mingyu pushes the door open, as expected, and his expression falters when they stare into each other’s eyes. Wonwoo doesn’t mean harm and gives Mingyu a second by eyeing him up and down, quickly gauging his intentions.

"Pretty thing,” he counts, true to his words. He may be down, but he isn’t out yet.

Their gazes meet again, because Wonwoo figures two seconds it’s all Mingyu needs to mention he's leaving the house in this instant and therefore can’t waste his time on him, but he doesn’t, even if he clearly is.

"Thanks,” the taller hesitates, tense.

Considering all the time they have spent in each other’s company, Wonwoo expects to be able to tell when Mingyu is dressed to impress. That’s certainly tonight’s case. His hair is styled nicely, not a strand out of place. He isn't even wearing jeans or joggers, but real chinos. He still has his sliders on though, and Wonwoo can’t tell what he plans to put on his feet, but he assumes it’s one of the countless nice tennis shoes he keeps inside of the cupboard they have by the entrance door.

He looks simple and yet so gorgeous, as usual from Mingyu. She, whoever that is, is a fool if she doesn’t like what she sees. He’s trying hard, you know?

"Have you got company? I can come back another time," he proposes even if he means the opposite and goes on the tip of his toes only to sink back down in sequence.

"Hyung needs something?" Mingyu avoids Wonwoo's concern, genuinely interested in whatever has brought him to the doorstep of his house.

Wonwoo doesn’t have an excuse for coming over after learning the taller had a date if not to check whether he had a bad trip indeed or not. He just did and just wanted to.

Then he remembers it’s a Wednesday night. Not an average Wednesday but one of the stupid kind, when the week is already drawn out, but a small variable changes the course of the day. His night was supposed to be summed up in feeding Soonyoung and playing games with Seokmin until Jihoon got tired of having his studies interrupted by their excited shouts and told them to get out.

It's stupid and egotistical of him to have run to the bungalow, but in his defense, Mingyu preserves himself from mentioning his date. If he wanted Wonwoo on his way out, he shouldn’t have.

Wonwoo reaches out and pulls Mingyu in by his belt carefully. It isn’t a fair fight and he is aware he’s playing dirty when his fingers hook on his clothes and brush over the soft cotton fabric, but it’s difficult to back down when the younger obliges staring down at him with a blank expression.

“Yes. Need you.” Wonwoo is quick to move another hand to the back of his neck and pull him down, hoping his kisses will do their job and cast their magic spell over Mingyu’s lips.

Mingyu softens at it, pliantly and easily, a magnet that can’t help but rush and cling to another, and gives in on a demonstration of fair-game and benevolence before Wonwoo’s selfish endeavor. He could’ve hold it against him for all he knows; he could have rejected this kiss or pressed and ripped the truth out, but he looks contented in planting a kiss full on Wonwoo’s lips for the moment, two good hands dropping to his hips to tug the lithe body inside the house, the latter stepping off his shoes to abide.

Wonwoo is promptly onto Mingyu the moment the door is closed with a pointed kick, shutting down the rest of the world for them, nothing else holding any meaning whatsoever. The taller allows himself to be pinned against the door and have his lips attacked with the hunger of days but his hands don’t stop working on the button of Wonwoo’s pants, trying to get rid of it as hurriedly as possible.

Mingyu determines the pace of the night when he kisses back as if he’s finally home after the longest time and his teeth gnaw at the soft and sensitive flesh. Their feet guide them to the familiar steps to the bedroom and they leave a trail of clothes being tossed up in the air and landing on the floor. Being picked up by the back of his thighs, Wonwoo is swapped off his feet and he has never felt so light before.

He is pushed and pinned onto the mattress. The window is shut, the room is as dark as midnight even though it’s barely eight in the afternoon. Wonwoo offers help, interested in doing more than simply take it, but likewise the rest of the world outside the bungalow, he is shut down and instructed to suck two of Mingyu's fingers.

Mingyu does all the work this time, making his way home and driving inside of him from behind, not taking it nice and slow in the slightest. Wonwoo is completely oblivious to what goes on in his mind. And when they're already slicked with sweaty and Wonwoo has lost track of time and how long they have been going at it, Mingyu circles his waist with an arm and sits back down on his heels and hauls the other male up, bringing him with him. He is placed down on his lap, back flushed to chest as a stamp to a postcard, and Wonwoo yelps in surprise.

The new angle is everything.

Mingyu is deep. His cock is sheated inside him and Wonwoo’s reminded of this anytime he is coaxed slightly off Mingyu’s lap and drove in and out of in potent, upright thrusts. Wonwoo cries out sinking back onto his penis and meeting him mid-thrust. Mingyu curses a dozen of times in the shell of his ear, the only words he utters after the bungalow’s entrance door was closed, and the only thing on Wonwoo’s mind is how good they’re making each other feel at the moment.

It gets too much a moment too soon and Mingyu returns him to his initial position by pressing the palm of his hands between his shoulders and pushes him down until he has his forehead pressed against the fluffy pillow and another under his crotch for leverage, trembling and feeling the rough touch of hands, tongues and  _fangs_  bruising his skin with gusto.

Wonwoo cries out helplessly with the shift of position, but feels the thrill for being dominated in such a rough fashion and maneuvered like a rag doll. Mingyu only needs to drive himself inside of him two more times before he is assaulting his prostate. Wonwoo is close. The hairs on his arms rise and his burning ears completely miss the frenetic sound of skin slapping skin that is so thick it may tinge the walls and no one else will be able to habit this bedroom without listening to it for years on.

It's rough—the roughest they have gotten over the past seven months—and in several moments it’s as if Mingyu is seething inside and taking out his frustrations on Wonwoo. He torments the other snapping his hips forward, punishes him by imprinting kisses and bites on his skin, bruising touches being added as the two of them near the line between healthy and that perilous kind of sex.

It’s precisely how Wonwoo wishes to be thrashed around on bed in this confusing night. Therefore, he can't complain or protest; if anything, he wants to thank this boy who makes him feel this terrific sensation building up in his belly, glad for finally having found him, who doesn’t waste their precious time on pleasantries as if dipping his wrists on water first to test the temperature of the sea and avoid a thermic shock before finally launching himself in.

Mingyu rolls Wonwoo on his back and cages both of the male's hands up above his head inside his grasp. Wonwoo's shoulders ache but he's the one chasing Mingyu's lips as the other thrusts inside, motivated by a rough rhythm that informs how close he is from releasing inside the condom.

How can Junhui even question why they’re still a thing after all these months? What’s not to like about how similar they are in intimacy matters? Or even, what’s not to like about Mingyu?

It’s a deluge of ecstasy when they come within seconds of each other to the point of obliviousness.

Mingyu remains on top of him, breathing heavily in his ear, slowly nosing at the junction of his shoulder and neck and not pulling out yet. Wonwoo still has his hands caged but has forgotten about it for a moment even if Mingyu’s grip had tighten and made it numb the moment he came. It’s lighter, almost non-existent now. He nibbles his teeth at Mingyu’s flexed biceps wiggling his fingers to pump his circulation back and the male lets go.

His scalp is scratched and caressed, his shoulder bitten and kissed better in sequence. He feels blissed-out and sticky and gross, but so is Mingyu. Minutes go by as the two of them calm themselves down.

"Why have you—let me fuck you...?" Mingyu asks into the abused skin of Wonwoo's neck, breath evening up and balancing the weight of his body on his elbows.

 _Why you've let me fuck you senseless?_  is the million dollar question.

"I always do. As long as it’s fun, I always do.” Wonwoo huffs out a laugh, even though he can’t see anything funny about it. His tired eyes are on the ceiling and his hair sticks to his forehead. He feels stick all over, and probably is. He has come softly and quietly, yet messily.

Admittedly, he pretends not knowing what Mingyu is on about. Perhaps Mingyu doesn’t own the right mind to voice what has just happened between the two of them; sex, of course, but not the usual kind. The pair could be versatile in bed, but yet, things had been different tonight. Wonwoo had allowed himself to be owned and took whatever Mingyu had to offer in the most literal sense.

"I don’t mean like that–" Mingyu tries again grazing his teeth against his skin but it's clear that Wonwoo refusing to offer his undivided attention makes him give up pushing the subject. "Nevermind."

Then he pulls out of Wonwoo with caution only to elicit a soft whimper out of his lips and gets up to discard the condom somewhere. And this is a disturbance, because Wonwoo is used to the weight of Mingyu on top of him and housing him between his thighs. Mingyu usually rides his orgasm by adding kisses to his sweaty flesh, refusing to pull out and part ways with him for minutes after they’re done. Feeling Mingyu going completely soft whilst still inside feels good, but that’s only his post-orgasmic possessiveness showing.

Coaxing Mingyu to give to him hard hasn’t solved his problems. Perhaps, spending countless days and nights on each other's company is starting to become a burden for him. Perhaps it's too much for a relationship solely based on getting each other off.

"Sorry. I had a weird day and I guess I just wanted to have something that would make me forget about it because I got super tired," he complains crossing his arms over his face and lets out a deep sigh. He can feel the sweat brimming on his hairline. Mingyu has worn him out. 

"Stay over then.”

Too much for their kind of relationship. Too much.

The bed dips to Mingyu's weight and the light of the cellphone in his hands nearly makes Wonwoo look his way out of curiosity, but he won’t dare to. He doesn’t want to see the other messaging someone else now.

"It's better if I go. Thought you were leaving to somewhere when I arrived. Sorry for interrupting you by the way," he snarls, unable to hold back that awful taste of bitterness on his tongue. Mingyu breathing so loudly by his side is getting on his nerves for the first time ever and not even knowing he did this to Mingyu’s breath eases his mind.

"Don't let it stop hyung. I'm the one supposed to leave, not you," he lazily says but of course Wonwoo notices all the sarcasm tainting his sentence.

Stay over on Mingyu’s bed while he's on a date, waiting for when he’s finished having fun with somebody else so they can fuck again. It’s so unbelievable that Wonwoo jolts up to a sitting position abruptly. He averts his eyes from the skin of his navel and pretends not to notice in which state he’s in because spurts of his release blend with the bruises left there whilst Mingyu eased his fingers inside of him.

He’s covered in them. There are marks of the deepest shade of pink sprouting up everywhere while Mingyu’s skin is the same tawny shade as usual. He’ll exit this bedroom all marked up and every person informed, even if superficially, of the nature of their relationship will know Mingyu did it, while Mingyu gets to go to his stupid date or whatever with his hands (and skin) clean.

"No, can’t do."

"I was just joking, hyung. I'm not going anywhere. I considered going out because I had something to do, but..." Mingyu trails off and sighs, dropping his phone on the space between their bodies. "It wasn't important. We can stay in bed. I have work tomorrow morning again but I can…” he does it again, he trails off, sounding exhausted, “I can change it if you want to stay over."

Perhaps seeing him for so long is also affecting Mingyu negatively; perhaps, this whole arrangement is starting to feel like a drag.

"I know you're joking. I’m bouncing either way."

He gets up and collects his garments from the floor as he does every night or any other time of the day when it's time to leave, hoping he can conceal his dissatisfaction because unlike Mingyu, he'd rather keep it bottled

It’s supposed to be fun, but fun takes the bottom place at his list of emotions at the moment. Tonight he’s much like Atlas, cursed to carry the weight of the world and his choices on his shoulders. It’s not like he can do the same and outright fuck his pent-up anger out of his system, after all.

The clothes he had been wearing when he arrived have suddenly vanished from his memory, all he knows is they keep company to Mingyu's own on the floor, and in a rush to fleeing as quick as possible, he tucks himself inside of a shirt that hangs a bit looser on his shoulders than it should.

"Thanks, Mingyu," he says, as if Mingyu has provided him a service, as if Mingyu has saved his copy of The Seventh Day from being taken by the current again.

He loathes it the moment the words force its way past his thin lips, loathes it more than Mingyu’s brief pause and sad sigh seconds prior to this fuck up.

On his way out the bedroom, he hears Mingyu spit a cold, vindictive, "no, thank you, hyung" and this is even worse, albeit he knows he deserves it. He throws himself out the bungalow with a subtle limp and only stops raging when he's inside his bus home, forehead banging repeatedly against the cold window until the passengers are looking at him strangely.

At home, he starts undressing out of Mingyu's shirt on the living room and heads off to the laundry with long strides, ignoring the panicked glance his mom sends to his shirtless body as she prepares herself a sandwich in the kitchen. Wonwoo undresses until he’s completely bare, tosses the shirt and his underwear inside the washing machine, dumps an unnecessary amount of detergent in it, punches the buttons and closes the lid with a bang, then jumps inside his pants again.

“Wonwoo-yah?”

“Not now, please,” he tells her without looking back and leaves for his private bathroom to wash himself away from any residues of this night, shirtless and feeling like crying from stress.

He lies awake for a long time, sensing the lights inside his home being flicked off and the soft padding of his parents going upstairs and locking themselves inside their room for the night.

Maybe the unpleasant feelings threatening to spill will go away after hours, but for now, he’s doomed. He will never see things the way they were. The shadows of the trees moving rhythmically on the walls give him the chills. The whimpers and moans escaping their lips sound like any other profanity. The mix of scents he has only ever found on the bedspread of Mingyu’s bedroom reminds him of this night and he chokes remembering it.

Being wiped out from his board and into the sea again by a wave that he learns that it’s too big to be ridden a second too late, Wonwoo suddenly doesn’t know which way is up anymore.

When he wakes up, his clothes are clean, dry and waiting for him in a basket outside his door, so he pushes it inside his bedroom with his feet, closes the door and heads off to the bakery.

Soonyoung, Jihoon and Junhui call him over for dinner and Wonwoo considers sharing with them the whiny stunt he pulled the previous night because he doesn’t mean to hide it from his best friends, but he’s unsure and still in need of coming to terms with whatever happened.

However, when he arrives at their apartment, he is soon informed that inviting him for dinner had been a cheap excuse to get him to stop Jihoon from calling his parents and beg to be accepted back home because having nothing but Coke, soju and ice cream left from the birthday party in their fridge and eating pizza and ramen every day is driving him crazy.

Wonwoo backs down immediately in favor of helping with their issue. He wipes his hand over their kitchen table and pushes to the floor Jihoon’s notebooks, Soonyoung’s goggles and four wrappers of cereal bars that Junhui claims to have eaten earlier in the morning before leaving to the shop. He checks his friends tanned faces, longing gazes quietly counting the few bills that are thrown on the surface to come up with an emergency dinner plan.

Soonyoung’s mom wouldn’t have allowed him to move out if she knew in which conditions her youngest decided to live, but the trio is more than healthy. They’re strong and, aside from Jihoon, they’re tall, even though only Junhui is actually taller than Wonwoo himself, and their faces are only a little damaged because of the abundance of the recent sunlight, but their skins glow for the exact same motive.

Jihoon always tells them that healthiness is important. This is the stuff he cares a lot about even if he’s school schedule is fucked up and he’ll spend an entire night up, reading his notes.

“Okay.” Jihoon looks sternly to the table and the amount they actually have in hands. Wonwoo must admit that buying that champagne sounds like a stupid idea now. “I’m really asking my parents for some help,” he deadpans and is immediately tackled to the ground by Soonyoung, whilst Junhui screams words of encouragement to convince him they’re fine and his first experience as an adult living by himself is going smoothly, nothing to worry about.

 

 

 

However assuming they were over with after the passive-aggressive fit he had thrown at the bungalow, it turns out Mingyu texts him (“hyung. we're going to seongsarin this sunday. you up?”) almost seventy two hours later and Wonwoo sits on the question during his lunch break before considering texting back (“K. let me know the time and I’ll be there”).

No other message comes after this, but Wonwoo isn’t expecting one anyways.

In Seongsarin he makes good use of each opportunity to analyze the glint in Mingyu's eyes, but he can’t identify anything odd about it. Mingyu, the ever changing individual, looks the same he did on Soonyoung, Jihoon and Junhui’s apartment living room. He stifles a laugh on Wonwoo’s neck (in this moment, Mingyu scoots so close and their arms touch with such intimacy that it makes Wonwoo feel damn good) and tries to pick a fight with him over a new game when they discuss about it. He asks for a bite of his food. They even talk about the weather, and this is as casual as they can get.

Just as the sun at the end of each day, whatever had crossed Mingyu's mind to get him so worked up earlier in the week is gone now. The ties are spread, knots are undone, the previous days are swept under the rug and they seem to pick up right where they left off.

The night ends just akin any other, with the two eventually moving to the bedroom and locking themselves there.

Wonwoo wouldn't even pretend to be shocked if someone strolled his way and break down for him some complex theory to prove the room is a portal to a parallel universe. More times than not, all the things become less important inside their own subsidiary of Loveland and he can’t think about anything at all for a couple hours. The world begins at the same pace in which it ends right after the thin frontier of those soft sheets. It has only a mattress and other pretty forgetful stuff inside, but it's a world so complete that Wonwoo sometimes will feel like lingering in, while they want one another so much.

He easily becomes aware of how wrong he’d been when assuming things would never be the same after Wednesday. Now, everything feels strangely settled and this is what gets him through the night.

Later, slipping his arms in his long sleeved Henley, Wonwoo crouches down to Mingyu’s side – the male fast asleep with an arm lazily dangling from the edges of the low mattress – collects his glasses from the nightstand and tucks the younger’s arm back to the warm, albeit a tad gross after they're done with their sexual activities, bed.

He gets up back on his feet cautiously and tip-toes out the door and onto the dark and silent hallway. Fast asleep Minghao and Hansol have shifted positions on a duvet on the floor and linked their hands overnight, even if the former claims to not sleeping a wink the nights Wonwoo comes over to the bungalow.

The TV is on.

With the lights coming from the device washing the living room in blue and grey tones, just as any islander, Wonwoo forgets about the shift he has in two hours for a couple of seconds and listens to the weather lady from the early morning News of channel 14 inform the right time and in sequence announce, a tad too excitedly, that summer has officially begun.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late and I can't remember any comments about the chapter (maybe I'll edit it later idk) and I'm a bit sorry for the brief angst scene at the end, but please let me know what you think! <3 ty ty ty!
> 
>  
> 
> ps. I don't know at which extent I should be explaining some terms I use but "burn" basically means stealing a wave from someone who has dropped in already.


	3. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in the heat of the summer, you know that you should be my boy. (brockhampton)
> 
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! The formatting is weird because I'm posting from my phone (i'll be back to edit it later) and towards the ending of the chapter a few lines may differ from the ones depicted in Besides because I wanted to fix the wording (it doesnt affect the plot, dw!). 
> 
> Thank you for sticking around! Only one chapter left now!

The day in which Chan bursts inside the bakery to tell the others the city council is putting down the condemned fire department building to start the construction of a large, imposing condo near the only supermarket in a large area of trees that line down to the road and create a beautiful scenery, it’s the day that marks the end of an era.

For instance, hours before the fire department building become piles of rubble akin to a city shattered, razed to the ground by a civil war, everything comes tumbling down hours earlier, when Soonyoung informs Junhui, Jihoon and Wonwoo that he had a strange dream the night before.

The four of them are inside the bakery, sat at a table parallel to the counter, because that’s how far Seungcheol has allowed Wonwoo to get if he really wanted to spend his lunch time with the trio before getting back to work. This alone proves how Jeonghan had been right after claiming that reaching a highest position could end their friendship. It hasn’t, of course, but Seungcheol has been thirty percent more a pain in the ass since becoming their manager.

“Me too, I shit you not,” Jihoon says and Junhui takes this as an opportunity to hide the packets of sugar above the bakery’s table from him before he decides to sweeten his coffee one more time and get himself a sugar rush. “A strangely vivid dream where I’m living the best life and have a loaded friend who has a pool I can crash summer long. I didn’t want to wake up.”

Finishing typing a reply to his latest convo with Mingyu, Wonwoo pockets his phone and offers his friend a quiet giggle. “You can come over any time, really,” he says. “Bring over that watermelon floaty you stole from your little cousin and have as much mango juice as your bladder can take.”

Jihoon’s brows shoot upwards in appreciation. His face has that overexposed aspect due to the sunlight and the bridge of his nose is as red as Rudolph The Reindeer’s. He takes a sip of his coffee and grimaces.

“Back to my dream now, will you?” Soonyoung wiggles impatiently and brings his butt to the edge of his chair. “For a hot, happy second someone had – fucking finally! – examined their conscience and came to terms with the fact the ice cream shop needs to get shut down for good before yet another generation of islanders is introduced to tutti-frutti slushies.”

Junhui glances at him from the other side of the table in disbelief, also wiggling his butt and nearing the edge of his chair. “The slush tale of when you were kids again?”

Wonwoo feels a sharp sting on his long removed Wisdom tooth. “Hey, could you not mention those slushies anymore?” he asks numbly. “My teeth. You know what it does to my teeth.”

“And you know what Soonyoung’s repetitive stories do to me. It wears me out every time I have to listen about it. Have any of you even tried it again now that Woo is a not so easily impressed, perfectly functioning adult and Soonyoungie is... just an adult?”

They haven’t, not the slushies. Wonwoo is completely fine with visiting the place and having his favorite ice cream but he wouldn’t be capable of trying the slushies again, as silly as it sounds. Seungcheol and Jeonghan have ruined it for him.

They all shift their bodies and glance towards the ice cream shop that has been present in the islanders’ imaginary for decades now. It’s still early but with the schools closed for the following weeks, the kids happily line up inside.

On the window pane, Wonwoo can see Soonyoung’s sullen eyes narrow. “Of course I haven’t and ain’t never doing that again,” he rages. “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. I don’t need it to be proven that I’m stupid!”

“Too late for that, Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung spins on his seat again and addresses Junhui. “You’re only jealous because Woo and I went through this awful memory before you moved in and this proves how knit tight we are. We share a bond you'll never be part of. You haven’t experienced anything special inside those doors but we did.”

"I had my first kiss right there," Junhui informs in peaceful delight, brows shooting up to make a point.

Soonyoung waves a dismissive hand in the air. "Second you mean. _I_ was your first kiss. Second kisses aren't this important and nobody even remembers them."

“I do remember mine. Just mentioned it.”

"The average teen manages to fuck up their first kiss due to their lack of experience and overall eagerness to shove their gross tongues inside their partner’s mouth. You," Jihoon says shaking Junhui's shoulder, "you managed to fuck up your first kiss by having it with Soonyoung. You’ve officially hit rock bottom, Jun!"

"And _you,_ " Soonyoung says, switching targets, "are jealous because I got to kiss Juni."

"There isn’t much to brag about though, is it? You traumatized him to the point where he suppressed the memory for years and when he did remember, his first whim was to make you suffer same way he did when he was a teen and you took advantage of his poor judgment. I could kiss him right now and I bet he wouldn't punch me the way he did to you.”

Wonwoo hisses and puts an arm behind Soonyoung's chair. This conversation is getting weird minutely. More times than not it's hard for him to believe that only Mingyu and he are actually into guys in their group of friends.

"I've kissed him _first_. Have some respect for the bro code! As one of my best friends, he's off limits. He's mine."

Junhui gives a breathy laugh and drops his hands on the table, palms down to set the record straight. "I have never agreed on being exclusive. Merrier the more.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung agrees with utter conviction, “Wonwoo’s the only one in this table who has a relationship based on exclusivity.”

His ears perch up at that and he glances at Soonyoung immediately, worried he hasn’t gotten the punchline of this obvious joke. His friends really change subjects too fast for him to keep up.

“Wonwoo, my brother from another mom, I don’t know how to put it nicely, so I won’t,” Soonyoung shifts closer and puts an arm around his shoulder. He also lets out a long sigh. “You're his bitch now, you're in too deep.”

“Don’t say it like that, it hurts his pride!” Junhui jumps to his defense, which is humorous considering he has been the one doubting and even condemning his relationship with Mingyu since the beginning of spring.

Wonwoo pushes his friend away and frowns so hard he can spot the hair of his eyebrows bushing on the center. “Whose bitch? I’m no one’s bitch!”

“Well, it certainly sounds like you became Gyu's. I’m almost a hundred percent sure he’s yours too, so don’t worry too much about it. But it is as it is. Every time I think about you, I just know you’re living your best moment, working, chilling, surfing, sucking dick. What can I tell you?” Soonyoung prompts, resting backwards on the wall besides the windows. “That’s your life now. You’re doing alright.”

Wonwoo groans, frustrated, dropping his head on the tabletop. He obscures his vision with his arms, hiding his face behind a wall he builds around himself. “You’ll ruin it for me. This thing between us… It’s definitely not like that. I am alright but not because of Mingyu or his dick or whatever you think the reason is. People do get alright on summer. All this heat, all this sun, sand and... Sweat! People tend to get heated and our lustful emotions come in full bloom. We even get one additional hour of sunlight and why not use it so surf and have sex.”

He raises his head again. His cheeks are warm and he probably has a red patch at the center of his forehead. The boys’ eyes are still hovering over him but at least they aren’t judgmental.

Jihyo comes along to their table asking where her favorite guy is and informing them the guys sat on the back are eyeing her like she’s a piece of meat. Wonwoo doesn’t know how the girls cope with all the hassle of having some of the younger boys that drop by the bakery making them feel like they need another man to have their voices heard when they have no intent of accepting their attempts of wooing them.

Soonyoung jokes about his own presence and the girl drops on the table the sugar packets she brought in her hands to refill the dispenser so she can push the male away with two of her well-manicured fingers on his forehead, offering him an overall disgusted look. Junhui is quick to hide all the packets on his lap, rearing back on his seat before anyone notices.

“Ugh. Not you of course. I’m talking about Mingyu,” she says. “I’m not leaving until these guys notice I’m not playing, so one of you will have to sit on my lap.”

Junhui agrees to do just that with the best of the intentions but it only serves to make her fidgety and suddenly interested in picking on the bracelets on her wrist. Jihyo will usually get a tad shy whenever Junhui comes over to the bakery and address her directly, but Wonwoo doesn’t blame his workmate. Junhui is fine as hell, especially on summer, when he’s got that suntan and becomes the only person in the entire Island who doesn’t get tan lines on his biceps.

The girl forces a half-hearted smile out.

“Can Jihoon do that? He's smaller and probably weighs less.”

Feigning to be peeved at her request, Junhui flashes a look to her. Jihoon follows.

“I’m not doing that,” he scowls her, dismisses the idea immediately with a frown and crosses his arms over his chest. “Just get yourself a chair, maybe? They’ll get the idea.”

“Fragile masculinity, I see,” the girl points out cocking her head to the side. She sends them an unimpressed glance that makes Wonwoo feel considerably smaller than her even if she isn’t near as tall as him. “Here I was, thinking that having Wonwoo as your best friend would have taught you something.”

Wonwoo liked to serve as good example as much as the next person but this one in particular he’d rather ditch.

Jihyo turns her entire body towards him and pouts sympathetically. “Yes, we know about you and Gyu and we don’t judge.” She cuts the air with her hands. “It’s cute when you go to the back to…” The girl purses her lips and makes kissy noises. So many that Wonwoo has to ask her to stop immediately. Why is Jihyo trying to make him cry?

“Yeah, when they go there to kiss. Of course.” Junhui huffs out a laugh and Wonwoo kicks him, right on his ankles. No one else needs to know about the nature of his and Mingyu’s relationship, especially his co-worker, who can snitch him to his boss for inappropriate behavior and get him fired.

“It’s fine and you should come hang out with us at the ice cream shop one of these days if you feel the need to talk to intellectual beings instead of these brutes!”

Oh my god, he wants to crawl under the table.

So he does, first slipping from his chair with the excuse of picking up the sugar packets that have fallen from Junhui’s lap after his kick to his ankles. He’d pretty much enjoy a quick death.

“Wonwoo isn’t the type of gay you’re thinking.”

“He isn’t in good terms with the ice cream shop."

“’Cos his teeth hurt,” Jihoon explains moving his hands in the air, palms up.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes before emerging from under the table again, head banging against the wood and possibly gluing a chewed gum to his hair. Jihyo slips to his chair, pushing him to the side and pressing him against Soonyoung. With her hands below her chin and an elbow on the table, Jihyo insists they look at each other in a differently than they do to the rest of their sorry excuse of friends and that his facial expression and how soft his voice get when he addresses Mingyu tattle on his interest, Wonwoo just informs her she’s reading too much into it because her description sounds a lot like the face Mingyu makes when he hasn’t been given his on the house cupcakes yet.

Jihyo’s pretty face doesn’t falters at his reply. As if things couldn’t get any more degrading, the girl with big, round eyes gets up from the seat she shares with him and fixes the navy apron tied around her waist, casually patting off the wrinkles and says, “you should, it’s too bad and you’re missing out! What are you even waiting for to make things official, someone to snatch him from you?”

Albeit the idea of Mingyu eventually finding someone who doesn’t gotta leave during the night and whom he can not only fuck but also take on dates and introduce to his parents and younger sister doesn't sit him entirely well, Wonwoo isn't exactly aching to know what went on that night after he left the bungalow.

For all he knows, Mingyu could have showered and left for his date right after him. This would be the ideal, after all — Mingyu going to his date and figuring out on his own that she wasn’t a match.

“What’s with the ugly face? Trouble in paradise?” Jihoon asks and stretches an arm to grab a sugar packet from the table. Junhui rolls his eyes.

Wonwoo finally notices he has been clenching his jaw while thinking about that night. Whenever this happens, his stomach flips with the stingy, ugly sensation of being unsafe and he feels uncomfortable inside his own skin.

To fight this, he’ll usually either try to remember that they are settled now or not give it the importance it doesn’t deserves or thinking about anything else Mingyu related. Sometimes minor things such as his funny quirks, the way he beams happiness when he’s really into something. It’s sweet. It’s enough to make Wonwoo feel lighter.

He sighs. Just yesterday Mingyu caught one of the most beautiful tubes that Wonwoo has seen. The wave was made for him and no other surfer dared to burn him. The water had almost closed around him and that’s the exact reason why it had been so enticing to watch Mingyu make out of it without being wiped off and with the nicest smile adorning his face.

“No?” he says, the memory being more than sufficient to stop the twist on his stomach and ease his mind. His technique aligned with his expertise is doing him wonders in terms of withholding his most recent nauseous memory. “Can we drop this talk about my dick and ass and, well, stuff alike? I don’t feel like sharing.”

He needs to get back to work but doesn’t want to leave just yet. He’s sure they’ll talk about it when he’s away and he has got to put an end to his conversation and get back to the safety of his obliviousness.

“One dick.” Soonyoung shoves a raised finger on his face. “You present proof of touching another dick and we'll leave you alone and never touch the subject again.”

“Kiss,” Junhui urges, plopping his arms over the table, “he means kiss. You kiss someone else and we let it go.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes to the stratosphere. “Do you want me to film it too? Who on their right mind would even agree to be filmed making out with another person? That’s creepy.”

“A sore throat can work as proof just as well. We’re not picky.”

Wonwoo catches Soonyoung’s finger and twists it inside his hand until his entire arm is at an awkward and unpleasant position. Soonyoung groans and begs him to stop, but Wonwoo holds the arm tight to punish his friend. For someone who dances and therefore exercises nearly every day at work, Soonyoung hasn’t become much stronger than he used to be when they were kids.

“Then you can kiss them in front of us.” Jihoon mimics Junhui and the three of them silently agree to ignore Soonyoung’s pleas. “We should hit that bar close to the street market on Friday. Or better yet,” he says, “let’s do it on your birthday. You’ll start the celebrations drinking.”

When they were children and teens, the beginning of summer indicated Wonwoo’s birthday. This year and with all the stuff that went down after Junhui and Soonyoung’s birthday celebration, he had forgotten how close his birthday has gotten without him even acknowledging it.

Wonwoo releases Soonyoung with a shove on the space between his shoulder blades and his friend is nearly dropped from his chair. “Think my brother will be around for my birthday,” he informs as an afterthought. Lately, the arrival of summer had also meant he’d have his brother around for at least three weeks.

“Cool,” Jihoon says, “he's nineteen, right? We should take the kid with us. We’re getting your younger brother drunk and you kissed in three weeks. It’s going down!”

Wonwoo’s name echoes across the bakery, but the costumers don’t get too disturbed by it and continue to sip on their teas and munch on their pastries. He says a ‘see you later’ to his friends and stomps his way to the kitchen, having a fork shoved inside his mouth to taste Beomju and Seokmin’s latest creation the moment he pushes past the entrance.

As he is bossed back to the cash register, he absentmindedly praises the dessert and comments that Seokmin should take one of those home because this is the type of sugary stuff that will have Mingyu happily wagging his tail.  

Oblivious to the exchange of entertained glances between Jeongyeon and Seokmin at his mention of Mingyu, and pulling out his most serious facial expression he can prepare at 11 o’clock, he heads off to a table on the back of the store with a broom in hands. He has greasy boys who insist in harassing his sensational coworkers to put out the door and a long day ahead.

 

 

They put the building down and Jihyo’s words run around his head constantly. To avoid dwelling too much on the scenario proposed by her, during the days that follow, Wonwoo gets carried away by silly daydreams. His mind wanders lengths and crosses boundaries a simple guy like him never has before, and these thoughts help to withdraw his mind from his daily routine obligations at the most inappropriate times. With his parents more present in the house for the sake of preparing everything to welcome his brother in the upcoming days, all the while pressuring him to celebrate his birthday since the entire family will be reunited, he’ll be thinking of other things that don’t quite demand his attention but he can't seem to avoid considering.

The simplest tasks become difficult and that’s how he misses his bus stop and has to run an entire kilometer to arrive on time for his shift, screws up five orders on a single day and receives a fair scold from the young Daehyun. The dishes escape from his soaped up grip, he accidently folds dog ears in the corner of the pages of his books with fidgety fingers on nights in which he's by himself at the peaceful silence of home, and even dares to offer himself as a tribute to the sacrifice that is being the representative of the youngest generation of the Jeon family at an important party at the yacht club when his parents mourn his brother not arriving on time to attend said party. Wonwoo is so distracted in his reveries that the prospect of seeing Mingyu and perhaps even escaping from the party with him for a few minutes induces him to anticipate it.

It gets particularly embarrassing whenever Mingyu hangs around the bakery, sometimes with Joshua or Hansol or both at once as his company. Mingyu minds his own business but Wonwoo can't spend five minutes without averting his eyes from the clients waiting on line and peek at him. Mingyu is always chuckling at something the others say or attentively offering his two cents on subjects Wonwoo can’t quite hear from the counter, and when he threatens to look his way, Wonwoo ignores him altogether or spins around to operate the coffee machine and give him his back, what only allows him more privacy to milk questions that he'll most definitely never have the answers for from his stupid, and until now, harmless daydreams.

How one even does become the object of Mingyu’s affection?

What's needed, what has the girl from that Wednesday night done to catch his interest and how has she learned it?

Worse, simply out of curiosity, for which reason Wonwoo and Mingyu haven’t engaged in a relationship? Because, well, Wonwoo appreciates having Mingyu around too, for even longer than whomever he met during the latest weeks, and perhaps he should be the one winning Mingyu’s attention for more than the thirty minutes needed to get both of them off, right?

At the beginning of the week of Wonwoo’s birthday,  Mingyu eventually gets up from his seat and moves to the counter, pouncing and producing low slippery noises on the tilled floor that nearly disappear beneath the muffled sound of the chat mixing with the occasional laughter that fill the ambient. It softens Wonwoo to be asked how his day is going so far, but Mingyu also asks if they can chat about something in sequence, looking so damn determined that Wonwoo panics and wonders if Mingyu will even approach the matter of being watched so intently lately. For this reason, Wonwoo opts to hurriedly drag him by his wrist to the empty employee's room not only to distract Mingyu but also to busy his own mouth before he ends up asking what he shouldn't.

It isn’t as if Wonwoo either wants or will run from him though, not when there’s a strong chance they’ll meet on the following night during the party he’s attending at the club. When he finishes what he had been doing and stands up in front of Mingyu with a sheepishly little smile and they make out some more in a kinda slow but definitely pleasant rhythm, Wonwoo learns that perhaps he has been unfair to Mingyu, who clearly does his best to ensure him that he’s the first, last and only one whenever they’re together, and he hopes everything is fine again.

(albeit taking Mingyu to the back prevents him from being dragged into a conversation he’d rather skip, it doesn't prevent him from getting overall embarrassed when they return and Jeonghan points out how he should take care of his red and puffy lips before returning to the cash register to deal with the clients)

 

* * *

 

It’s almost eight when he returns from work to find his only tuxedo already ironed and awaiting for him on his bed. At first he’d thought he could get away with accompanying his parents to their party slightly better dressed than what’s usual for him, but now the fancy article of clothing seems an obvious answer. Slipping below the shower, he doesn’t know what he was expecting to be wearing tonight, but agrees that if Mingyu, Hansol and Minghao can wear stupid tuxedos multiple times a week, all night and day long, then so can he.

It has rained all day – sudden showers that started potent and were gone as fast as they begun, within short intervals throughout the day. The air has been humid again and the laws soaked and squishy under people’s feet. The TV inside the bakery’s kitchen, kept on and from time to time the broadcasting would be interrupted by a News flash that advised the citizens to avoid transiting in between the Island cities due to the rain. It doesn’t put out the plans of those inside the yacht club though.

The rain whithers until there are only drops left on the panes of the tall ballroom windows and after minutes Wonwoo can see the vessels tied to the floating docks outside. He wonders how nice the waves will get tomorrow at the beach. They’re roughly three weeks into summer, but the sea has been fickle and once they notice, they’ll be back to fall and winter without enduring two complete weeks of stable swell. The waves will only crash this height for two months more and this is waking these weird ideas on him of maybe looking for another place where he can surf after the season is over.

Wonwoo spends almost the totality of the first half of his night (split in before and after Mingyu’s arrival) being introduced to people, chatting with a childhood friend and researching on his phone the weather forecast of several places he probably won’t get to go unless his family take him or he starts saving all of his payments from now on.

As Hansol offers more glasses of champagne on a silver plate to his parents and his dad's most important business partner as well as his wife, the boy looks suspiciously fancy and professional, unlike the self Wonwoo has befriended and got accustomed to. Usually, Hansol is all loud, scandalous laughter and cool, laid back alternative clothes, but tonight he bows not only to the eldest in their group but to him as well, balances a plate on a hand and has a bottle of champagne on another, all the while wearing the most subtle and polite smile on his lips. Wonwoo would have thought they had replaced him with a neater, more boring and less interesting version of the boy if not for the plaster hiding a scratch on his cheek.

Wonwoo leans in inconspicuously. "You have the chance of saving me from my parents and business talk in your hands," he tells him, "can I join you behind the bar? I’m wearing a tux too. Not like anyone will notice."

Hansol doesn't quite spins around but sizes him up and down after emptying his plate and leans over too. "Wrong choice of color, you rich hyung!" he offers with a lopsided smirk and bows his way out of that side of the ballroom to get to the kitchen instead of return to the bar that's being operated by Minghao since the beginning of the night.

"Your friend's right," Nayoung, the daughter of his dad's partner and a somewhat old friend that he rarely meets up in real life although being friends in every social network they are a part of, says eyeing his tuxedo. "You forgot that the waiters usually wear white during important nights."

"I guess I did. Haven't been around in forever and last year I’ve visited for like ten minutes or so," Wonwoo counts quietly. "Hey, noona, let me take you for a walk?"

"Right now," Nayoung drops her fancy façade on the spot and the pair withdraws from their parents.

Although offering to take her, is Nayoung who guides Wonwoo to the ballroom balcony once he assures her the rain has stopped and stepping out won't make them wet and consequently embarrass their parents in front of a hundred other people. For ten minutes she points to different directions and presents him, always adding mockery to her tone, to whatever they have changed in the club's facilities since his childhood days, and they only join their parents again after laughing at the wack new marble pilasters at the entrance of the ballroom and the cheesy names written on the vessels they can spot from where they observe the docks.

They return to the ballroom just in time to see Mingyu presenting to work and entering the room through the kitchen door dressed in white just like the other waiters and an empty plate under his arm. Nayoung still giggles at one of Wonwoo’s comments, arm linked to his, and Mingyu doesn't seem to acknowledge his presence as he heads on another direction, but Wonwoo definitely does, even noticing how the younger looks relaxed even if they're in a naturally stiff place.

What Wonwoo doesn't acknowledge though, it's the moment Mingyu spots him amongst the group, but it gets clear he did once he starts to actually serving drinks and they exchange glances from opposite sides of the ballroom. Wonwoo isn't drinking, he supposes he wouldn't even know what to order if not a beer or maybe soju or plain vodka, but he anxiously awaits for Mingyu to come over their group each time someone finishes their drink, however, other waiters always seem to be quicker than him. Sometimes it looks like Mingyu will come over, but he just doesn't and it gets Wonwoo bugged to an extent.

So bugged that Nayoung intervenes. "Is the tall, cute guy you’ve been eyeing your friend too?" she asks gesturing Mingyu with her chin.

"Yes, he is." Wonwoo hadn't noticed he'd been staring at him so intently throughout the night, but this is hardly news. He has done this too much lately. "I was just expecting him to come around at some point. Do you think he’ll come if I order something?"

"Or you can simply go talk to him. I doubt their superior has an eye specifically on him all night and getting him distracted from work for a few minutes will get him in trouble. And even if it does, we can always come up with an excuse." She elbows him on the arms with a confiding smile. "I'll back you up!"

Encouraged by Nayoung, Wonwoo stalks Mingyu until he's in a favorable position to be kidnapped and does just that, hogging his plate to drop it on the nearest available surface and taking him to the spiral emergency stairs, which seclusion he used to his advantage when playing hide and seek as a child. Seungcheol had never found him there because no one bothered to use it but some of the staff who had to get to one of the two floors quickly and to avoid the central posh staircase (since his latest visit back in November, they have managed to ruin its architecture completely by adding two statues at the foot of the marble) just inside the club's main entrance.

A moment passes but it feels like an entire hour before Wonwoo has had enough and is asking if he was being avoided, because of how frustrating it would be if he came to this stupid party to be blown off, that much is certain.

“No, of course not. I just happen to not being assigned to that side of the room.”

Yet to decide to whether judge his odd behavior or not, Wonwoo says, “I know you, Mingyu, and you’re a terrible liar.” He gestures to his tuxedo. As usual, Mingyu is dressed to the nines. “It’s a nice tux. You look hot wearing it.”

Mingyu seems taken aback for a moment, but it doesn’t last long. It never does when it comes to Mingyu. “Same goes for you, hyung. You could probably charm anyone’s pants off with this tuxedo.”

“Including yours? You get turned on when I dress like a snob boy? I would never have guessed it!”

“It turns me on when you dress nothing.”

It seems he has mastered the ability of getting Wonwoo into cheap pick up calls with the simplest sentences, which is contradicting since night one, when the younger complimented him by saying he was gorgeous and Wonwoo had been against falling for that, but did anyways – still does, until now.

“This doesn't feel right, does it?” Mingyu prompts, spinning the subject. “I mean, the music, the atmosphere, how it doesn't smell like the sea. I never learned how they do that. Everywhere else on this side of the island but here smells like it.”

Wonwoo moves closer, frowning. He has never noticed it, but he secretly sniffs the air now and he’s definitely right about the scent. It smells clean, fresh. The stairwell lightining is eerie and white, no personality in it.

“Well, my parents dragged me here against my will, but I do like the music. It’s Sade’s The Sweetest Taboo; it's a classic,” he schools him. Hansol’s trippy playlists are endearing and they get easily stuck inside one’s brains but they really should listen to other stuff now and then. One can’t possibly devote his entire life to the same old songs.

Mingyu doesn’t give Wonwoo’s comment his utmost attention and blatantly ignores it by tugging him closer with a grip to his square chin, luring him to come closer enough to fuse with him, share some skin warmth and have his lips tasted in a near future.

Wonwoo is more than willing to feel Mingyu’s body flush against his, it stings a tad to remember how Mingyu had once sweetly traced his skin, concerned with his neck and overall praising something common such as his chin. Being able to make Mingyu orgasm still works wonders to his newly discovered kink of pleasing his partner, but it also seems a shallow prospect when he recalls that moment. Mingyu’s chaste touches are as brilliant as the others.

His parents must really have a point for thinking he doesn’t ask for much. He has spent his night surrounded by people who cherish the fanciest stuff in life, but a kiss or one of those dreamily sighs you can’t help but let out when someone you like so much kisses you languid and passionate would have been sufficient to sweep him off his feet. 

Wonwoo walks to Mingyu and allows him to press his lips against his bared neck. He has his skin tenderly kissed and it affects him to the point of causing him to restrain a gasp. “We should go somewhere else, unless you want to do it right here,” he advises.

“One day someone will finally catch us and we’ll lose our jobs,” Mingyu says and pauses for a second to lick a generous stripe along the column of Wonwoo’s neck. “This is probably considered inappropriate behavior, don’t you think?”

This would be terrible, Wonwoo agrees. He has no idea where he would find a boss as understanding as Beomju or a manager that would be so favorable to letting him off the hook whenever he really needs like Seungcheol, and still, Mingyu shows no sign of stopping him anytime they’re going at it in semi-public spaces, and he tells him such with a whisper to the shell of his ear.

“You’re a huge fan of our inappropriate behavior,” he adds and, as a technique to urge Mingyu to find a place for them to hide, starts to get to work by undoing Mingyu’s stupid bow-tie and peeling off the jacket of his equally stupid tux.

Giving in, Mingyu circles Wonwoo’s waist with his arms and tugs him for a hurried kiss before finally dragging the other downstairs. As they walk into the pool area hand in hand, Wonwoo giggles to himself, head tiptoeing on the idea of how his return to the club’s pool is happening in grand style, and fuck if it doesn’t suit perfectly the opulence of this building and the apparent delusions of grandeur imbedded in each wall.

Albeit Wonwoo would love to, they don’t undress each other when they get to the men’s locker room, lacking the proper time for such luxury. What they do, however, it’s making out and suck hickeys on each other’s throats and collarbones until Mingyu is trying to speak again.

“Not again, Mingyu!” he warns, mouth attached to him and preventing his words to echo across the walls.

Just a day prior at the bakery, Mingyu had tried to do the same, interrupt him in a heated moment. Wonwoo had just started to unbutton his pants and nibble at the skin of his neck, what hitched Mingyu’s breath, and when Wonwoo dropped to his knees in front of him, the younger went silent for a while, staring down and daring to ask what he was doing.

Wonwoo had cocked his head to the side and raised a brow, soon joking about being on his to pray for his sins but also asking if he should stop. Taking Mingyu’s silence and the blush creeping to his chubby cheeks as a ‘no’, Wonwoo let it slip. Mingyu had eventually recovered his words, only to lose then again after Wonwoo fretfully made sure that whatever they had to speak, his dreamy stares or whatever, could wait until they were finished.

“If you start with this again I swear to God—” Mingyu’s quiet giggle interrupts and annoys him at the same time, to the point of have him urging to add one kiss or several others to his throat.

Wonwoo has his head softly but steadily tugged backwards with Mingyu’s grip on his hair. He shivers in excitement, his shoulders go lax. “You swear to God on what?” Mingyu asks, so slowly it misses Wonwoo’s ears and go straight to his groin. He knows, he definitely knows about Wonwoo’s kink of being kind of bossed around, no doubt about that now. Looking for support, Wonwoo rests his skull on the tilled wall behind them. God, they don’t have much time but it’d be a shame to bust this quick. “I want to wreck you for anybody else,” Mingyu says after a short second observing his face.

Mingyu isn’t supposed to say things like that when Wonwoo is in his most vulnerable week to date, so he just pushes the sentence aside because that’s not good, not good at all. Mingyu is all empty words since their first nights and fuck if Wonwoo isn’t close to jump head first in each one.

Wonwoo flutters his eyes closed because — Wonwoo, focus! — and waits for Mingyu to make a move already, promising himself this isn’t his way of asking Mingyu to show him how he plans on making good on his promise.

During the rest of their half an hour together in the locker room, Mingyu’s hands seem to alternate with his lips to touch every part of Wonwoo clothed frame until they have everything covered and ‘I was here’ is printed all over his body. Mingyu insists in taking the matter into his hands quite too literally and gets the two of them off by pumping and rolling their erections together in his warm palm.

Wonwoo listens to Mingyu’s praises happy and blissed out, ears going distinctively hot when Mingyu mentions they should have sex in front of the mirror on another opportunity so Wonwoo can see how beautiful he gets like this or when he coos at how Wonwoo is begging him for release. It’s so much Wonwoo feels like he’s skyrocketing past the troposphere, too far gone to give a fuck about their noises and little whimpers that echoe inside the lockeroom when Mingyu flicks his wrist just right, thumbs at their slits and rubs their ballsacks.

It’s the perfect moment for him to do that, keep the questions coming. Mingyu is predictable, that’s him. He’ll get all bold, cocky and possessive (why not?) when he knows Wonwoo is nearing, suscetible and wanting nothing but to orgasm.

“Hyung,” Mingyu calls, voice hot and jagged, and Wonwoo knows it’s time, “Wonwoo, how much do you want me?”

“A lot,” he replies in all honesty whilst fucking Mingyu’s fist. He is always honest, but there’s something about this time, that makes him want Mingyu to notice he isn’t just replying to a question, but informing him of his desire for him. “Want you like I’ve never–I need you so much,” he confesses and  lands a kiss full on Mingyu’s lips. Granted, this provides the energy the latter needs to make the two of them come within minutes, just after Wonwoo mutters, “fuck, I’m so close. So, so, so close.” He just wants them to come at the same time. It’s messy and slippery and too much and amazing when they finish together.

Wonwoo cautiously helps Mingyu’s soft cock back to his underwear and his shirt inside his pants whilst holding back his giggles. It isn’t an unprecedented situation, especially when one of them – Mingyu in this case – has their hands dirty of their jizz and can’t do it themselves, but still, he takes his time fumbling with the buttons and zipper, patting the wrinkles away, and mumbling that he just wants to be sure his clothes look as neat as they were before he captured Mingyu so Amber won’t call him out for looking a wreck.

Mourning the eventual arrival of the moment they have to part ways again, he circles Mingyu’s upper body with his frail arms, rests his head on his back with the excuse of being tired. “We were quick this time," Mingyu whispers. His chest rises and falls in a slow, calming pace while he rinses his hands and under his nails with tap water. "That's new.”

He rubs his cheek against the wool of Mingyu’s tailored suit. Needy and cheesy isn’t a good look on him but he can be both when he has to. “I know. But was really good."

“You,” Mingyu corrects, “are really good.”

Wonwoo huffs out and detaches himself from Mingyu’s back to free him from his weird hug. Shifting his eyes to the mirror in front of them, Wonwoo grimaces at a small bruise peeking off his collarbones and as if reading his mind, Mingyu smirks and dries his hands with two paper towels.

“Why would you even do that?” Wonwoo asks, restraining a whine. He’s accompanying his parents and he can’t help but feel like walking on the tight-rope whenever he’s at public spaces with them, who are quite nice and are trying to be modern on behalf of their young sons, but who will scold him to no end when he reappears in the ballroom with a sudden hickey.

Mingyu stares at him through the mirror and drops the used towels in a bin below the sinks. “You can say it’s a mosquito bite. They have tons of them near the docks, you know.”

“A mosquito bite?” he asks walking out the locker room. “How tall is this mosquito? 1,86m, you mean?”

At the top of the stairs, just like children, they pull each other on opposed directions by their locked fingers, letting go one at time until they’re only tied together by their pinkies and Wonwoo can spin Mingyu around and plant a foot to his butt to push him inside the ballroom first.

“Woah, long talk,” Nayoung comments, clueless to Wonwoo tugging the collar of his jacket and shirt when they meet up again. “Guess you had a lot to catch up!”

They have been gone for at least half an hour and he hasn’t bothered to come up with a background story, so he makes something up ad-havoc and hopes for the best. “He’s a talkative guy,” he says, eyes trailing to Mingyu, who has his arms plopped on the bar countertop, where he talks to both Hansol and Minghao. “Never shuts the fuck up. Really knows how to use his mouth—words!”

Mingyu slaps Wonwoo right on the face from ten meters away when he smirks at him, smug and nice in a chaotically way. It has his heart climbing up his way to his abused throat, getting caught in there such as a pill hard to swallow.

“Please don’t leave me alone anymore, Wonwoonie!” Nayoung pleads with a pout. “I almost had to engage on a business talk and have my father finding out I’ve been sleeping during most of my classes.”

 

* * *

 

“Date night?” Jihyo asks on Wednesday, arms plopped over the countertop and eyes glued to the bakery windows. Wonwoo finishes handing a customer their change and asks her what she’s talking about, to which she only tilts her head to indicate Mingyu leaning against the hood of Seungcheol’s car.

Admittedly, this morning at the beach Wonwoo had agreed on paying for food after they had bet on who would get to a wave first – Mingyu had just been lucky that Wonwoo paddled up way too slowly to his liking, really – and they had settled to go out after work once they were boarded in Joshua’s pick up truck, as Mingyu insisted to drive him to work and later get back to the beach.

Their drive had been silent for the most part. Mingyu’s hair was dripping and combed backwards and he looked fresh even this early in the morning, even being a heavy sleeper, as Wonwoo observed the moments Mingyu was too focused on the road to even notice his stares. They chatted about the swell and their bet, previous night sort of being ignored after a few words exchanged when they were still in the sand. Wonwoo promised not to forget they were having food when he hopped off the truck and Mingyu shoot him an adorable smile.

However, on top of being early, Mingyu is waiting outside this time for a reason, what causes Wonwoo to shut the cash machine drawer excusing himself to the next costumer in line and head outside.

“Hey. I still have twenty minutes to go until my shift ends,” he explains just outside the door, which he holds open wiling to return inside really quick. They stand meters apart, Mingyu with his feet on top of a white line on the asphalt of the parking lot in front of the bakery. “Come wait inside, man!”

Mingyu shifts the weight of his body from a leg to another. “I’ll just wait here I guess. You know how Beomju gets when I take my board inside and scratch the flooring,” he explains and Wonwoo notices now. On the curb, Mingyu’s longboard await for them to head off to wherever they’re supposed to and this is great, because Wonwoo had taken his own to the beach early, already considering using it to get to the bakery where the girls were already awaiting for him, but didn’t get to use it due to Mingyu dropping him off. “You didn’t tell me where we’re going but after going home to change I thought it’d be close enough for we to get there on wheels.”

Wonwoo grins cutely at that. Mingyu is spot on; he has planned to visit the fish and chips shop because Mingyu has always appreciated the food they serve there and it isn’t more than three blocks away from the bakery. They’ll get there just fine.    

"Smart guy. Think we still have two of those cupcakes you dig left in the kitchen, are you sure you don't want to come in?"

Mingyu's cheeks go aflame, Wonwoo can see it from the door. "Thanks but I'll wait here. It's no biggie."

"Hold up! I won’t be long."

Inside, Jihyo has taken over the cash register and is already telling him that she can definitely cover for him if it means she gets to be covered in return on Friday because she has plans to go to the movies and she doesn’t want to get late to the movie session, to what he readily agrees to.

Wonwoo picks up his stuff and steps out of the bakery to meet with Mingyu, and even if he doesn’t disclose his plans for the end of their day, the younger follows him, always keeping a somewhat distance to allow himself to be guided past a junction seconds after the lights become red.

The often busy avenue seems peaceful now, with all cars they have left behind on the traffic lights offering no competition to the pair to rule the large and long street, even if it will last for only another minute. A minute seems enough time for Wonwoo when he breathes in the chill sundown breeze and sees the last bit of sun laying in the sea, there down the horizon, at the avenue’s invisible finish line. The sun is almost completely down, waving a see you tomorrow to the city, but its last rays are undeniably there, leaving vestiges of an orange and pink-ish sky, clouds gathering up there. The sea glides below, reflecting on the windows of the highest floor buildings.

The red light switches to green, the honk sounds return and Wonwoo jams his left foot down on the asphalt with more strength to get to the next street on his right before any lunatic decides to run them over. Mingyu takes the lead just before they exit the avenue, the bike adhesive reflectors Minghao got for his skateboard last Christmas starting to reflect now the sun is almost set and the lampposts start to light up, but Wonwoo chases after him and passes his skateboard easily after regaining speed.

At this point of their journey, it gets quite clear where they’re headed to, and Mingyu definitely seems to catch on their destination as Wonwoo checks him from over his shoulder and he receives a perfectly-fine-with-it kind of smile instead of a call out for being over competitive.

Getting to the shop, Wonwoo holds the door open for Mingyu and encourages him to order first. They take seats across from each other on their narrow table and eat mostly in silence, because this time Mingyu strangely doesn’t try to engage in conversation and decides on simply replying to Wonwoo’s comments. It’s uncommon and it bugs him to an extent. Maybe he should remind him that though he can’t keep this one-sided conversation going for hours unlike him,  acting shy won’t make him stop talking either, if that’s what Mingyu’s plotting.

“Not hungry?” he asks instead after an entire minute of silence and taps his plastic fork on his lips thoughtfully.

“I had something to eat when I got home from the beach. Assumed we’d end up eating instant ramen at a 7-Eleven nearby so I didn’t bother to save space in my stomach.”

“Instant ramen? You really think little of me! I’m a man of my word. I promised to pay for whatever we were eating tonight and I wasn’t hoping you to choose instant ramen. You could have postponed it if you weren’t hungry, by the way."

Smiling easily, Wonwoo leans in and fetches a bite off Mingyu’s food. It’s tasty as usual and he definitely can finish it for him.

“Haven't felt like spending the night inside the house. Too hot for that.”

Shoving the fork inside his mouth, he rears backwards on his seat and watches him through less lively eyes this time, considerating his words. The blue door to the shop opens and a couple comes inside with curious stares. It’s probably their first time there.

“It’s gonna rain. Smells like it. I don’t feel like going home either because I’ll probably be on my own. Is it ok for you if we just walk around after we’re finished?”

“Sure.”

Mingyu leans in again too and grabs one of Wonwoo’s French fries. Wonwoo watches.

“Thought you weren’t hungry.”

“Guess I’ve just changed my mind, or,” he says raising his eyes to Wonwoo, “I just noticed I should’ve ordered fries. I’m always up for fries.”

Wonwoo nods too and switches their bowls on the table inviting an unaware Mingyu to be his guest.

“Your birthday is in two days.”

“It is. Have I mentioned my brother is coming home for a few weeks?" he asks because it would be weird not to share this with Mingyu since they're always together, being in his company almost like a daily occurrence now.

Mingyu shakes his head slowly, mind still so far it can't be reached.

"Oh well. He is. I don't know exactly when but I hope he’s around on my birthday. Not doing anything out of the ordinary, but it’d be ace to have him around.”

“Do we get to meet him?”

“Do you want to?” he asks, eyes travelling upwards and locking on Mingyu’s own. Mingyu shakes his head side to side, putting some thought in this question. Then, he shrugs and plays with his food.

“Listen up,” Mingyu says and Wonwoo is already smiling, finding it amusing, but encouraging him to go on. “You made him sound like a spoiled rich kid during all these months we know each other, I’m not gonna lie.” Wonwoo huffs out a laugh. His brother isn’t spoiled, only extremely disinterested in this island. “But if he’s anything like you personality wise, then yes. Why not?”

“Personality wise–I don’t know about that. He’s going through these changes we all go through at nineteen, flirting with adulthood in a way. He’s great now, can become greater when he’s finally an adult. Way better than me in every sense. He’s handsome too, could have been a model or whatever. Got it from our mom, I guess!”

“You could have been one too. Hyung's beautiful. Really, really beautiful. Gorgeous.”

That’s how Kim Mingyu scores his dates, it seems, even if he’s living proof that flattery hasn’t taken them anywhere and certainly hasn’t gotten them a date.

Mingyu shakes his head slowly and drops his eyes to his food for a long time. Wonwoo is convinced they’ve fallen into silence again. If Junhui was present, he’d try to fill their brief silence with cute anecdotes.

“I’m glad you didn’t. Otherwise I’d never stand a chance with you,” Mingyu finally adds.

At that, Wonwoo tries to imagine an alternate universe in where he hadn't been given birth in this island with these friends. Not meeting Mingyu. _Not meeting Mingyu._ He experiments it in his head and it annoys him a bit when he plays again the past months without Mingyu being part of them.

Living in this reality bothers him for the moments he allows himself to consider it. A ton seems to leave his shoulders when he snaps out of it and notices how unlikely it sounds. It’s for the best that’s a reality he has escaped from and he is still there enjoying Mingyu’s company.

He’s safe.

 

 

 

Though Wonwoo has only planned their night to a certain degree, initially figuring that taking Mingyu to eat at one of his favorite places would be a nice payment for their bet, after finishing their food they leave to no particular place. Together they cross familiar streets, riding above the smooth asphalt and pavement past the convenience store and the lit up front of the bowling place where Seokmin and Hansol had dragged everybody to on their birthdays, back on February.

There's something about the summer wind, warm and chill at the same time. Fierce. Wonwoo takes in the damp scent that wafts from the bushy and green trees and acknowledges the arrival of the rain common of summertime and at any time. It’s been a hot day and the clouds are heavy and grey.

An always clumsy Mingyu stumbles and is tossed to the asphalt at some point, taking the rearview mirror of a car with him, maybe due to a bump in the tarmac or something of this nature, and Wonwoo automatically puts his task on hold on behalf of jumping off his board and stooping down toward him.

Mingyu sits on the asphalt in the middle of a street Wonwoo doesn’t really remember the name of but has been too many times due to Soonyoung’s workplace, surrounded by parked cars that possibly belong to costumers of a restaurant at the end of said street. Wonwoo helps him up smiling with fondness at his graceless mistake once he is a hundred sure that Mingyu is fine.

Wonwoo measures all the damage left behind them. The rearview mirror has been yanked and he can’t really see a way of fixing it or at least tucking it back on place, so he just tells Mingyu that they should get the fuck out before someone appears. A couple of runways.

“We should,” Mingyu says with a serious expression and Wonwoo bends down to grab both theirs skateboards so they can flee from a car’s owner wrath before they’re busted and have to bear the costs they definitely can’t afford.

“You should pay more attention where you’re going,” he says, playfully bumping onto Mingyu’s shoulder with his whilst heading off to shelter below the marquee of the dance studio as a rainstorm strikes and showers that half of the city.

Mingyu fakes a laugh and they put their skateboards down against the wall after reaching the studio’s pavement. Whilst Wonwoo settles for leaning against the wall, Mingyu keeps his distance, interested in watching the thick droplets fall, same droplets that have stick a few strands of hair to Wonwoo’s forehead. Fuck, he feels a bit cold now that his arms are wet, clothes damp.

“Wonwoo-yah!”

Naturally, Wonwoo latches his hand on Mingyu’s shoulder and presses his fingers down and tight to punish the boy. “Hey, brat, what do you think you’re doing? It’s hyung for you!” he scowls.

Though expecting Mingyu to pipe down, it only serves as motivation to have him mocking his complaint and so Wonwoo raises his head again to ask what’s so funny, but Mingyu looks so confident of himself that he even cages him against the wall he leans in.

He’s so near he can sniff the scent of his bodywash mixing with the muddy smell of rain.

“What’s wrong?” he asks staring up at him and suddenly feeling shorter than he really is. He keeps his hands behind his back, between the wall and his body and his short nails scratch the cement not to touch Mingyu right there. They’re in the middle of the straight and being this close alone will draw funny glances if someone sees them. “Why you went quiet all of a sudden?”

If Mingyu’s gaze continues to burn him like this, he’ll end up with a problem in his hands and this isn’t good.

“I was only thinking we have sex every week,” he pauses shortly, “sometimes several times a week. Does it even matter if we cut the honorifics?”

“What does this have to do with anything?” Wonwoo challenges him to go on with this. The last time he has thought about honorifics, they had only slept together two times, and they’re definitely closer now, but cutting down the honorifics won’t help them a thing when they eventually go their separate ways. Besides, Wonwoo thinks it’s kind of sweet when he does it. He loves being a hyung. “Girls call their boyfriends oppa too.”

“But that's because they think it’s cute calling their boyfriends oppa…”

Mingyu cocks his head like a spoiled child refusing to take no as an answer. Admittedly, Mingyu had the right to occasionally act like it in Wonwoo’s presence; he would always be a tad cute whilst doing it, even if being as tall and manly as he is. Perks of being younger. Till this day, Wonwoo still thinks that when isn’t being a terrible friend, Jeonghan has a soft spot for him.

“But,” Wonwoo blurts, “what if I like being called hyung? What if I think it’s cute too? You never asked!”

Mingyu frowns. He knows nothing about anything. He’s so oblivious it’s funny.

“You don’t, it doesn’t even suit you, does it? I mean, if you had told me you think it’s hot,” he considers it and that’s rich coming from him, “it would have been kinda odd but understandable, because you can be really kinky sometimes–“

Wonwoo pushes him away with a strong shove until Mingyu is sufficiently far. “Cut the teasing, it’s funnier when it’s the other way around anyways,” he adverts playfully but the male approaches him again, used to their literal push and shove and proving their relationship is homemade dynamite on the verge of blowing everything to bits.

Mingyu’s lips softly graze his ear and he closes his eyes real quick, holding back any reaction. “You love it.” Mingyu isn’t lying. He’s amused by it most days, even if it has gotten confusing lately. It’s undeniable how they still manage to match so well.

Mingyu is gone a second too soon, detaching their bodies. They’re at substantial distance now and although Mingyu is still on the sidewalk, the marquee won’t protect him from the rain if he moves further away and he has just noticed a vivid red scratch on his right elbow. That aside, Wonwoo misses it–him already. He has gotten so soft it’s scaring.

“Yah!” he calls lazily and pulls his body off the wall to fucking bring him back to where he should’ve never had left. “Don’t even think about getting yourself wet, your arm is bleeding.”

Mingyu glances at it with obliviousness and when he tries to latch a finger on it, Wonwoo’s hand closes around his wrist and holds it on place.

“We should take care of it, kiddo.”

The younger receives the advert with a funny, irked face. “Stop babying me,” he says right away. “Soon you’ll be saying you’ll kiss my booboo better and all that.”

Wonwoo has never noticed how peeved of being treated with more caution Mingyu is. Wonwoo knows, it’s tired of knowing even, that Mingyu is better doing his own things by himself, but his skin is already carved with several scars and scratches from all his skateboarding and jabbing a finger on his scratch would fuck everything up.

Wonwoo tries to explain that this isn’ a matter of babying him, in all honesty, just caring about his well-being when Mingyu takes his spectacles from his face and wipes off the rain on the lenses on his shirt. “I'm not babying you, I swear,” he says still studying how cautiously Mingyu maneuvers his specs. “It’s not like you’re half my age, Mingyu. Chill.”

Despite this, the waiter grants him with the silent treatment. They get to bicker a lot on a week basis and it’s the first time that Mingyu actually acts like that. Wonwoo doesn’t like it in the slightest, so, even if out of the blue, he circles Mingyu’s neck with his arms, eliciting a blank stare from Mingyu.

There’s a moment’s pause. Wonwoo breathes deeply, contemplating the position they’re in. If their proximity could have been frowned upon before, now they can be upright scolded at if somebody shows up. He’s thankful the rain is so heavy it raises a curtain around them, obstructing the view at least if someone’s looking from afar.

“That’s why you haven’t called me hyung all night?” he asks, realization finally getting the best of him. Mingyu nearly carries him backwards and back to the wall, pinning him there without mercy. Wonwoo can’t see anything sexual about it, which is surprising but at the same time it makes him feel different. He inhales deeply again. “How mature of you!”

He grazes his fingers over the defined lines of Mingyu's jawline, feeling the slightly rougher skin of his chin just this time, promising he won’t bother the younger too much with his sudden urge to take care of him. Mingyu remains silent, lips sealed and eyeballs shifting rapidly from Wonwoo’s eyes to his cheeks or any other point on his face.

But Mingyu is just perfect. Perfect lips, perfect hands, perfect voice. He makes him want so many things, but specially being around. He wants sex with Mingyu every day, but he wonders where he went wrong that all he’s gotten was this instead of all the touches, the kisses and words that could have come along with their relationship. Now, he’s left with this fear of drawing the line and invading his space after eight months of a relationship that should be settled by now. Still he decides to risk it, because Mingyu haven’t answered him yet and is looking at him with the most lost gaze he has ever seen him wearing and this is not what he wanted. 

Wonwoo cocks his head just the slightest and pushes himself to press a soft and timid kiss to the lips which shape and texture he knows by heart. It isn’t sloppy in the slightest, but a genuine and detailed depiction of sweetness. Mingyu doesn’t kiss him back, but allows himself to be kissed and have his mouth explored, what causes Wonwoo’s heart to hammer in his chest, so hard he fears knocking Mingyu down as their chests align.

For a moment, he thinks he is fucking this up. Is being stupid to kiss Mingyu in the open, for anyone to see. What if Mingyu doesn’t want to be kissed? What if he only sees Wonwoo as a fuck buddy and thinks they should keep their stuff inside the bedroom?

As if sensing his insecurity, Mingyu doesn’t pull him closer when their tongues touch inside their mouths, but holds him down by resting a hand to the small of his back. And this means a lot of things but it’s a step.  Wonwoo is the first to draw back because he still fears having stepped out of the dotted lines, and when he eventually does, it’s to offer Mingyu a small tight-lipped, unsure smile.

Wonwoo, however, is starting to shiver now, not because of feeling cold anymore, but just because he’s so silly and has just found this out.

“Hyung, you’re shivering cold,” Mingyu says and Wonwoo silently thanks him for addressing him this way. It means everything’s good between them again.

The sound of the rainstorm diminishes because that’s how rain showers work, and Wonwoo looks up, escaping his gaze.

Wonwoo nods more times than it would have been needed to convey a point. Mingyu smooths his hand above the covered skin of his back and the touch causes another shiver to run down his spine. “Yeah, I’m shivering cold,” he says, heart clenching.

The storm comes to an end, but the reminiscent drizzle seems to accompany Wonwoo all the way home, causing his bus driver to take the double of time it would to get to the bus stop nearly one block away from his house. Still, Wonwoo hasn't been able to hold back his smile since kissing Mingyu.

Setting the table at home, his parents try to draw his attention, but Wonwoo apologizes and says he'll be back in five minutes. He's restless and he doesn’t need his mom asking what’s up with the funny face when he starts smiling for no apparent reason.

So he bolts to his bedroom and pushes the door open to close it in sequence with the weight of his own body as he leans against it. He smiles all he wants. Because, hell, he really feels the urge to smile like an idiot and until it gives him permanent wrinkles around his lips.

"About time you got home, hyung," they say and Wonwoo's head snaps towards his bed.

The bedroom is dark, but the shadow looming over his bed is so noticeable now that he doesn’t know how he hasn’t noticed it early. Both windows are open wide and the humid wind blows inside, thin drops of sizzle bounce on the windowsill and skydive on the flooring, and, well, he can smell burnt matches.

One of his books is tossed aside, landing dangerously close to the edge of the mattress, and Wonwoo stretches an arm out to the nearest wall to fiddle with the lights. Lying upside down, head dangling from his bed and legs up against the wall, his brother flashes him a smile.

“Fuck, you home!” he says, surprised for being welcomed in such unlikely fashion.

“Eh! I had to hide in here because they would look for me in my room and I need to… You know,” the younger says and Wonwoo’s eyes drop to the pack of cigarettes on top of his bed.

Wonwoo snorts and raises a finger to point the thing out. “You’re not even trying to be fancy about it. You smoke Lucky Strike and shit?”

The nineteen-year old shifts positions on bed, back flipping perfectly and landing with his feet on the floor and walks towards him with a swing to his walk that Wonwoo has never seen before. “What can I tell you? I’m a humble person!” he says and sends him a cheeky wink.

Albeit video-calling his brother every few weeks or so, Wonwoo hadn’t expected how changed his brother looks now. He has gotten taller, about his height or maybe passing him, and his hair is lighter than the raven it was in the last selfie Wonwoo has received, barely a week (or maybe two? Wonwoo has been too distracted to remember it properly, either way) ago. And that’s alright, because Wonwoo’s hair has changed in the course of the last months too and, not being a photogenic person or interested in the slightest in taking pictures of himself whatsoever, it means he has at least something different about himself to present his brother too now he is back home.

They hug leaning side to side and it almost hurts Wonwoo to learn his baby brother can now squeeze his lithe body so tight inside his embrace that he’ll screech until he lets him go. It’s clear their time of challenging each other to arm-wrestling at random times has come to an end. Wonwoo is a sore loser.

Still allowing himself to be properly hugged, Wonwoo ruffles his brother’s hair whilst wearing an amused smile on his lips and coos at how good-looking he’s gotten. To it the younger snorts and pulls away, finding it sufficient of being babied for a day.

“Hyung,” he addresses, “you reek as... sea air, rain, weed and," his younger brother bends over to sniffle at his clothes woth scrunched up nose, "sex?”

Wonwoo frowns immediately. The last time he has had sex he had been wearing a claustrophobic tuxedo the prior day at the club and the clothes he’s wearing now are definitely clean, and he tells his brother such.  

The younger rears back with a smirk and a surprised, inquisitive expression. “So you _have been_ doing the dirty other nights although not tonight, eh hyung?” he asks and Wonwoo finally gets it. He has been played.

He throws his body backwards and it hits the door. He looks up, briefly thinking of Mingyu and holding back a smile. “Shut up. Weeks ago mom already gave me the judgmental look because I fucked up, I don’t need them hearing this.”

Spending days inside his bedroom had not spared him from noticing his mother measuring him up and down after the night in which he returned from the bungalow so pissed that he hadn’t bothered to be seen in his most pitiful state by the woman. Dammit, as much as he had tried to clean himself on his way home, the way the woman had called his name on his back and how she had taken a basket with his clothes to his bedroom door has made it clear she noticed his come stained abdomen.

“I'm sure they know you already had sex by now. You’re twenty-two.”

“Do they know that _you_ do?” he asks, connecting the dots. His brother scoffs, but Wonwoo knows he is right. The cigarettes, the attitude and the eagerness to continue as far from home as possible make it even clearer he is familiar with the smell of sex out of experience. “You have lived your entire life in boarding school and didn’t miss a beat after getting in Uni! That’s why you decided to stay in Seoul, so ma and pa wouldn’t clip your wings, isn’t it?”

The younger raises his hands in defense and gives three steps back, one step short to bumping Wonwoo’s book shelves, as if this will save him from Wonwoo’s questions. "I’m not the subject here, hyung, really. On our drive home from the airport dad mentioned you haven’t spent time at home anymore and I assumed you were seeing someone."

His younger brother had a high chance of assuming it wrongly, considering their father also spends as much time away from home as him, but he has always been a bright boy and he’s happy this hasn’t changed with age. Maybe if he had pursued a career as his parents expected him to, he would had continued being as bright as he used to be too.

If that had been the case, he’s sure he would have learned how to focus better and therefore being able to separate sex from feelings, but look in what he has gotten himself into now. 

"Is anyone I should know about?" he asks sitting back on bed.

Wonwoo just shrugs and shakes his head side to side, telling him that isn’t this simple. Putting into words what he and Mingyu are or his feelings towards him aren’t, at least.

“You just got home after seeing them, I assume, and I’m kind of on the run from the suffocating couple downstairs, so listening to you is the perfect excuse for us to keep hiding behind closed doors,” the younger comments. “You can talk about anything, hyung, I’ve got two ears and plenty of time.”

Isn't simple but if his brother says he has an hour or so to listen to everything that has happened for the past eight months, then maybe he will be able to give the younger some contextualization over the messy situation he is in at the moment. So he sits with his brother on his bed and asks if he really wants to know about it and about Mingyu.

His brother frowns immediately and it's so clear Wonwoo has worried him somehow. “Mingyu? That’s his name? I don’t know what he did, hyung, but I hope he isn’t a major dick because I kinda like this name. It has a ring to it.”

“He fucked me over. I mean-“ Wonwoo pauses and points his fingers to his head. “This isn’t necessarily bad. He didn’t do anything wrong. At first I thought I thought he was only a guy I met at the surf shop. Until he wasn't.”

 

* * *

 

He shouldn’t have kissed him, and he tells such to Junhui two nights before his birthday, the moment he drags himself all the way from the bakery after the end of his shift to the back of the surf shop with the sole purpose of letting his body fall on the floor as dramatically as he can convey at the moment. Which is certainly very dramatic.

“Ouch." He frowns and sits up to rub a hand on his lower back after feeling a bump poke him right there.

“Please get up,” Junhui pleads but his voice comes out muffled thanks to the plastic mask covering his face, “there’s tons of fiberglass shit on the floor and this isn’t good for your healthy.”

Wonwoo spins around on his butt to watch him shape off the sides of a surfboard with sandpaper. “It’s ok, I’m dumb and I deserve it.” His nose is already wrinkling thanks to the sharp smell of resin invading his nostrils.

He reaches up for the sheet of paper peeking from the top of the surfboard and stares at the nice, cool split-tail surfboard drawing on it.    

“This looks like something Soonyoung could have come up with,” he says, eyes drawn to the tiger pattern on the center.

“You’re good. Gyu doodled something for him the other day after burying Fishy. They came over on Tuesday and Soony asked me to be faithful to it so I’m, y’know, using it to guide me.”

Fishy, a cute surfboard Soonyoung has since he was a tween, had drifted towards the bottom of the cliff and smashed against the rocks until it was splatted in two and the white foam that surrounds the wooden material which runs down the center was in sight. Instead of acknowledging it can happen when you surf past the reef to avoid the weak waves breaking at the sand, Soonyoung had dived head first into an inner turmoil worthy of pity and whined and sobbed for two days.

“It’s a shit board anyways,” Wonwoo says, finally able to voice his thoughts aloud. He’s annoyed at himself, at Fishy and at the world.

Junhui clicks his tongue twice. Or at least Wonwoo thinks he does. “We don’t get to choose who or what we’re falling for. You should know it.”

Wonwoo doesn’t know if Junhui is talking about him or Soonyoung, but pushes aside the chunk of foam that has poked him on the back and ruined his dramatic entrance and lies down again. "I shouldn't have kissed him," he repeats, tone flat and eyes on the ceiling.

Junhui’s sanding comes to a halt and he sends him a funny look. “Wait, you kissed someone else already? I thought you were waiting until tomorrow night.”

“Mingyu. I kissed Mingyu. I don’t know why I did it. Probably because I’m too stupid and into fucking shit up.”

"Oh.” Junhui resumes the process. Wonwoo's issue isn’t so interesting. “You probably wanted to."

"I did. If I knew it could be so good, I would have done it earlier. Since our first kiss I noticed how fucking great he is at kissing, y’know,” he confesses and another grin comes easily to his lips, but he fights it immediately. Kissing him was amazing but having the day passed, now he sees he shouldn’t have did it at all. "But isn't it weird kissing someone out of the blue? Fuck, Junhui, I shouldn't have kissed him. Why you let me kiss him?"

He blows his hair off his specs and rolls over on his belly. Something pinches his arm and the position is weird but Junhui's face comes in full display.

"I advise you to ask for one's permission before kissing them, but it isn't weird in this case. You know you wanted to, he wanted to as well. You have done it a thousand times. You’ve _fucked_ a thousand times, for fuck’s sake. What’s up with kissing?"

"Not like this. It’s hard to explain but we never kiss like this, out of nowhere and in the middle of the street and with no intention of taking each other to bed. We don’t kiss just for kissing. We kiss to get in the mood. Last night was no mood, just a kiss." 

Having enough of it, Junhui drops the sandpaper and pushes his mask off his face, yanking it past his forehead and onto his hairline. His shoulders sag low and he rests a hand on his waist, unimpressed.

“Man. What even is this relationship? You two are wack and need professional help as fast as possible.”

Wonwoo frowns his deepest, most serious frown in days. Junhui doesn’t get it. He excuses himself out the door by saying he is deeply sorry for bothering a busy Junhui with his presence so he can maintain the dramatic vibe up high, and runs home because he is late for dinner with his family.  

Later in the night, his family eats together inside the house and not by the pool due to the weather, as his parents had planned still back in April. His mother updates his brother on everything the family has done in his absence and his father asks about stuff of his daily routine in Seoul in return, but the younger doesn’t really need to have questions shoot his way to find an excuse to share his witty remarks and charm their parents throughout dinner with all the shit he has learned in the all-boys boarding school's debate club he frequented for three years.

Wonwoo spares himself from being amazed with his younger brother's usage of words to get rid of the same old questions about his plans for the future in order to fish his phone inside his pockets and find out if Mingyu has sent any message, but there’s none.

He considers shooting him a quick greeting just to let him know he’s thinking of him but every sentence he comes up with sounds too cheesy and unlike the two of them. This way, suddenly dinner is over and both he and his brother are sent to wash dishes, so he has to postpone it and pocket his phone without sending a message.

 

 

 

 

 

“Bro. This shit’s boring,” he concludes on the eve of his birthday, chin on his arms and arms on the table they take right across the DJ booth. “We should have picked somewhere else.”

“You were the one who messaged us asking if we were still up to hanging and having drinks tonight,” Jihoon recalls furrowing his brows.

Jihoon couldn't be more accurate.

Wonwoo had been antsy during work and decided to confirm their plans for the night. In all honesty, Soonyoung had already forgotten about their night out and made new plans (movies with Jihyo and the girls. To take his mind from Fishy’s departure, the girl made sure to highlight at least four times in the span of a conversation. Soonyoung, however, isn’t important and it suits him to come up with a plan and going MIA when it’s to execute it) but Jihoon and Junhui were up, just like his brother, who claimed to have nothing better to do but to join them for drinks. The younger however, had bumped on childhood friends as soon as they walked inside the bar and now was found alternating seats between both booths.

“I didn’t know they’d be playing sad songs,” he complains, voice a tad slurred and sounding extremely hard to follow to his own ears.

His brother, Jihoon and Junhui check the bar. There are people dancing around their booth, couples pressed against the walls talking with intimacy and everyone seems quite happy. They’re playing Kriz’s Bad, which is a bit cheesy if you ask them but hardly a sad song. The trio looks back at him and Wonwoo identifies a hint of pity in their eyes.

“You’ve been complaining non-stop about every song this guy plays,” Jihoon points out. “I thought we were here to get you hooked up with someone since you are so against the idea of having developed feelings for Mingyu. You’re half-way drunk and so far I haven’t seen you eyeing anybody, let alone making out.”

“Seriously?” the younger amongst the three purses his lips with surprise. “I thought we had come here to get me wasted!”

Wonwoo snickers at him immediately, feeling offended. The boy has consumed alcohol enough to knock Wonwoo himself but still manages to hold it better than anyone else he has met. He tells him such, which only elicits him to say that if Wonwoo had actually attended university, maybe he would have learned how to drink properly without getting drunk outta his ass.

That’s what his younger brother has been learning in school? He hates not being a better-functioning adult than him. Wonwoo is supposed to be giving the example but he can’t even think about anything else but the guy whose dick he’s been worshipping for the past months.

Junhui raises a hand and purses his lips too, giving in. “Talking about you _certainly_ being gone for Mingyu since you two kissed to me." 

“Jun. I’m definitely in the process of that. But you’re not wrong. Well,” he shoots Jihoon a glance, “you are.”

“You’re not here to kiss somebody and your bro isn’t getting any tipsier than us, so of course this option is also out, which leaves us with this thing going on between our favorite gays. What’s up with Mingyu and you kissing? I thought you had been doing it since we first met him.”

“Woah! You kissed on your first date? Shameless, hyung!”

He’s done worse (or better, it depends on who’s listening) than kissing but decides to spare his younger brother from it, just like he has done the night they sat down to talk. Junhui and Jihoon already know what went down that night at the bungalow so he’d rather not get into details.

“We kissed but only technically. It’s deeper than that. Thing is Gyu and I don’t kiss the way we did two nights ago. We’ll usually tongue-fuck each other’s mouths until we can’t hold on anymore and end up having sex. Was different this time,” he clarifies and sighs in sequence, memories invading his mind again and making him fight a smile to break through his lips. He sends yet another glance to both his friends and brother, sobering up for the briefest moment. “Let’s settle some rules now,” he raises a finger and moves it up in the air in a confusing beeline. “If I’m gonna talk about my feelings for him, you have to promise not to laugh at me. This is serious business and I wouldn’t take the pain of seeing my feelings joked on. So you hold that back.”

“Woo **,** we won’t. Even if joking about everything is my first whim. Go on. What else has helped you see you may have feelings for him?”

“Two days ago waves were breaking, remember? That morning Mingyu and the others came ‘round Jungmun and I had to go to work and leave earlier because Seungcheol hyung was off, but Gyu offered to drive me to the bakery so I could get at least one more wave, and we bet that the first to drop one would pay for food later. We had fries and rolled around downtown, just the usual. Mingyu fell and hurt his elbow, so I tried to help but he said I’m always treating him like a baby yadda yadda and everything got all awkward because he was being difficult and…” Wonwoo scratches the table with his short nails and shakes his head. “I don’t know. I – well – kissed him.”

“Ah. So that’s what happened. I noticed the scratch on his elbow when I dropped by the bungalow.” Jihoon sighs with a soft chuckle.

“And then, three nights ago we met at the yacht club and got each other off. It was great, but then he asked me shit I couldn’t lie about, because whenever we’re like this I can’t think properly and just say whatever I’m feeling. I just blurt the truth and the truth is I may have gotten so head over heels for him that I can’t get enough of him. I’m lost in him.”

“God, do you even have time to do anything else with the amount of sex you have?” his brother asks shooting up his bushy brows and swiping his hair up. 

Sometimes, yes. They have way too much sex and Wonwoo isn’t even horny all the time. He wishes they could have sex and hang out right after, continue in each other’s company without him feeling awkward or as a drag. It feels great when they aren’t fronting, aren’t posing or worrying about the rules of casual sex.

The song ends and yet another song about two people having feelings for each other comes and all Wonwoo can do is let the whine strangling him finally out.

“I just–It makes me notice that maybe I like spending time with him, doesn’t really matter what we’re doing,” he confesses and lifts his head from his arms to rear back on the crimson cushions of their booth sofa. He sighs, feeling considerably less pressed now. He’s just a tad sad, is all. “And it sucks because how will we get out of this if we have never had the proper time to become friends? When Mingyu walks out and we don’t get to have these moments with each other anymore because we found our own people, what’s left for us? What will be left _of_ us? I’m constantly thinking that our time is running out.”

“What makes you think this?” Junhui asks with his low, sugary tone and pitiful expression. “Have you discussed about cutting this short or something?”

He shakes his head and drops his eyes to a wet spot on the material. His glass is half empty and the contents have gone warm but he finishes it anyways.

“I haven’t told anyone about it because I really don’t need you guys giving me shit for this, but thing is on Soonyoung’s birthday Mingyu was supposed to have a date. But I may have postponed it by showing at his door ready to fuck, after learning about his date.”

“You leaving our apartment all of a sudden was suspicious as fuck but I thought you were just pissed. I didn’t know you had this in you.”

He’s not exactly fond of opening up like this, but the alcohol makes it easier, so he embraces the feeling of finally telling his version of the events. Things can’t get any worse and he may as well commit himself entirely, so he keeps going.

“I was pissed. In a way, at least. So I showed up and we had sex, but then we kind of argued?! Or I argued with him. I was so sure things had ended between us but then it came back to normal and now I see I wasn’t just pissed. I was _jealous_.”

It should feel good to admit it, but it doesn’t, not how he supposes it must’ve. He gives props to Junhui, Jihoon and his brother for being there listening to his drunk nonsense. Still he wishes he could be saying this to Mingyu and apologizing for being an idiot who got their relationship all wrong.

“I mean, we have been going on for eight months and we’re not official or anything, so he can actually walk out anytime. But it felt unfair that another person got to be taken on dates and see him acting all love-dovey towards them instead of me. Also wanna sleep in his bed, why can’t I? Fuck, I really want that. I want that more than anything, do you think he'd let me?”

“Geez, Woo, I don’t know,” Junhui winces. “Maybe you should ask him? I don’t think he would be opposed to it or anything. It’s just a bed.”

“It isn’t just a bed. Same way it wasn’t just a kiss. We meet, we fuck, I leave–or he leaves, it depends where we went to fuck– and… That’s all we do.”

“Oh, wow! I guess romance isn’t dead after all,” Jihoon jokes but when Wonwoo looks up at him he’s serious. Worried, maybe. But Jihoon doesn’t do softness, right? Wonwoo is probably wrong.

Junhui sends him a stern look and Jihoon gets up, yanking Wonwoo’s brother with him and stumbling away from their table as he claims going after someone with whom Wonwoo can hook up with because this is getting sadder than he intended to when he proposed their night out weeks prior, at the bakery.

Wonwoo watches them go with a bit of paranoia induced by all the alcohol floating in his blood stream, but Junhui reaches his hand forward and tugs at his sleeves. His head is on his shoulder the following second.

“That’s not all you do. Wonwoo, c’mon. You’re always finding a way of hanging out at the bungalow or going out to eat and not inviting anyone else. You’re always together and laughing and being cool around each other. I’m so sorry I took part in it that day in the waterfall. I don’t think what you have it’s just sex, but you gotta talk things out before things go south.”

“Junnie. I think I should go home now.”

Junhui hums at his name being called. “Are you sure? Your birthday is in less than one hour. Stay right there where you are, I’ll fetch Jihoon and we can talk about leaving.”

Junhui promptly gets up from their booth. Wonwoo may be drunk and a bit paranoid but he isn’t entirely dumb. He may never have gone to university and learned how to suck cheap beer off a kegger and be a lightweight, but he really isn’t dumb. Then, afraid his friends are in fact contemplating fetching someone to hook up with him and make their best friend less miserable than he probably looks at the moment, he naturally does what every sane person who has no plans of kissing another mouth (but, well, maybe Mingyu’s) would in sequence: he runs away.

His senses, even if terribly foggy by alcohol, seem to guide him to the bungalow without major issues after stepping on the sidewalk. He shoots Mingyu the message he couldn’t find courage to the previous night and waits for him to pull the door open.

Mingyu welcomes him inside his bedroom and things get less clear and detailed in this moment, but Wonwoo knows he is supposed to undress, right? It may be because his clothes are one step before being damp due to the reminiscent drizzle after almost two days of heavy rain that has laid waste to one of the roads to the north or because that’s a key point of being inside Mingyu’s bedroom. He isn’t expecting to engage on any sort of sexual acts tonight – accordingly to what Mingyu has told him the night they celebrated Junhui and Soonyoung’s birthday back in June, he evidently had several drinks and this means Mingyu wouldn’t even be interested in taking him to bed anyways – but for some reason it feels right to undress.

He makes sure to explain to Mingyu that he isn’t trying to get him worked up with his gratuitous striptease and the pair sits side by side above the bed, darkness engulfing them in comfortable fashion. Mingyu isn’t comfortable, however. It’s in the way he quakes his shoulder and pouts cutely.

“That's the only thing we seem to do anytime we’re alone,” Mingyu tells him, as if he doesn’t know about that already. “I know we hang out sometimes but I figured you wanted to kill the boredom, nothing else. We don't have much to talk about, do we? Are we even friends of some sorts?”

Wonwoo doesn’t know the answer. Sometimes they can pass off as friends but the following second their hands will be all over each other’s bodies and Wonwoo will be having another great orgasm.

“Do you want to be friends though? I mean, be honest. If you want to stop–“ he voices out, but decides not giving Mingyu ideas and backs off, “if I'm being too needy just tell me.”

Mingyu’s reply is a huge concern of his, but bending forward to rest his face on his palms, Mingyu sighs and tells him, “you are not being needy. I'm the neediest between us. I don't really know where we stand so it's not like I can answer if I want to be friends or if we have always been.”

Mingyu is as lost as him, so Wonwoo goes silent to try and sober up but it’s too difficult and he’s sure he will end up running his mouth at some point. Might as well have just done it.

“Is it because I kissed you? We never kiss when we're not having sex because I thought you wanted to keep it casual and low key, but then I felt like doing it because you were being difficult and I wanted to fix it–no, I mean,” he considers resting his hand on Mingyu’s shoulder to apologize. He didn’t mean to say he was being difficult as a child, just that they were having problems. It annoys Mingyu to be treated akin to a child, he should stop immediately then. He’ll only make it worse. He doesn’t touch him. “We were there in the rain and I wanted to know how it felt kissing you without the kiss leading to sex for once, ya know? I can stop if you want to. We can stop, it’s–“ a pause and a sigh, “it’s whatever,” he manages to finish whilst fighting the sting of a needle in his throat and threatening to make his voice crack.

Mingyu is quiet. Quieter than he has ever been, until he speaks up again. Wonwoo, however, is so confused he barely gets to glue the words together so they make sense. “…Why are you even here? If not for sex, why would you come?” Mingyu looks up at him but Wonwoo’s floating and can’t answer on the spot.

Why, Mingyu asks, with that twitch in his voice that tattles on how confused he is at the moment. Maybe because he can’t fake his feelings so easily and everything ends up coming to his lips with ease. He shouldn’t have come, but he wanted to.

“I don't know. One second I was out with Junhui and Jihoon and the next I noticed that instead of going home I was on my way here. I don't know why. I just kinda told your address to the taxi driver.”

Mingyu leaves the bed but in sequence tells him he should stay, and that’s good, that’s great because he fears Mingyu otherwise would have to drag him out. Been given the green light it’s enough to have him flopping on the bedding and hoping his words are low in volume enough so only the sheets and pillows will listen to him say he loves the scent of them.

They smell like Mingyu and good things and, man!, he could marry this bedspread.

“You can stay in my bed and I'll have the couch.”

He balances the weight of his body on his elbows and faces Mingyu, eyes now adjusted to the darkness. He looks pretty but he’s too far. Wonwoo doesn’t like it in the slightest, but won’t hold it against him.

“No. Why? We fit here, always have. Still do, right?” He whines, disregarding the idea completely. It’s not fair that he finally gets to spend the night but Mingyu is nowhere near.

He wants the entire experience. Wants Mingyu and to snuggle closer and all those things he could pass without back in November. But that–That was before Mingyu came round. Things have taken a one-eighty.

“I guess,” Mingyu tells him as he approaches the bed. That’s something that snatches a small smile from Wonwoo’s thin pink lips. “I can stay if that makes you feel better.”

Soon they’re on bed, under the sheets, Wonwoo feeling at home like he never has before and feeling his body settling easily as the flesh of their arms rub on one another. He feels relaxed and incredibly comfortable. Mingyu, however, is stiffy.

He has been in Mingyu’s position before, unable to move yet restless to the touch of another human-being which intentions you know nothing about. But it feels like ages ago and has served for him to learn how to make him feel less out of place in his own space.

Wonwoo asks if he can hug Mingyu. And when the younger heaves out a soft, strangled sigh first and moves his right arm from his sides to the pillow, making space for Wonwoo to fit in his embrace, Wonwoo knows Mingyu is done for.

In the morning, he wakes up first as usual, soon learning their bodies have changed positions but still managed to shift in the same direction. He has fallen asleep on the side that Mingyu prefers to sleep on and isn’t surprised that his arms are no longer hugging Mingyu’s middle, but half of the latter’s body is on top of his left limbs, unaware of the huge empty space left on bed.

Bits of the previous night come to him soon enough and before he can try and slip from underneath Mingyu’s heavier frame. His bare chest flushes when he recalls their convo, and he cocks his head to bury it in Mingyu’s neck, because that’s the only spot available in the position he finds himself at the moment.

There’s a distinct feeling of daintiness in being impossibly screwed, because once you hit rock bottom, you know the only way is up. Akin to a new beginning, everything that happens is from now on.

Wonwoo is gone, that’s all that matters. Mingyu’s feelings are none of his business. He accepts it, and now the warmth that seemed to lick Wonwoo’s insides at the most inappropriate moments spent in Mingyu’s company looks a lot like a 1,86m boy spreading into his veins and to his vital organs until he ended up embedded to his DNA.

How he did it will remain a forever mystery.

The muffled sound of the shower water running across the hallway and feet shuffling on the floorboards is nearly enough to douse his thinking, but not quite. He shifts closer to the tanned, warm body with which his own shares that mattress in the most delicate sense, until his lips aren’t brushing against Mingyu’s shoulder anymore and he can flop his head on the pillow.

His limbs are numb. His collarbones have been set on fire. An asleep Mingyu breathes heavily on the top of his head, causing the short hairs at the nape of his own neck to rise and his skin feel ticklish. He feels light and a tad pissed at Mingyu too.

“You greedy sucker,” he whispers, free hand rolling Mingyu’s earlobe with his index and thumb, “you really had to come all the way down here to be a better surfer than me and be this hot too? You’re to blame.”

Minghao and Seokmin are already up, the TV is on and the former is stuffing his mouth with scoops of a bowl with a serving that looks too steamy for a hot summer day.

They don’t think much of his presence when he comes by. In fact, Wonwoo assumes that unlike Mingyu, Minghao and Seokmin are used to seeing him leaving the bungalow. Mingyu is a sleepy-head, he’s never awake when it’s time for Wonwoo to gather his clothes and perform all the drills of his walk of shame.

Seokmin bounces, literally does, in Wonwoo’s direction to latch a wet and disgusting, yet heavily affectionate, kiss to his cheek. “Happy birthday, Wonwoo-hyung!” he shouts on his face, arms hugging him impossibly tight and making him gasp.

His face shows a happy smile but Wonwoo can’t quite mimic it. Seokmin is a ball of sunshine and nobody can’t compare. Seokmin is probably way happier than the average human-being.

“I’m happy to know you’ve decided to spend your birthday here,” he shouts again but it’s somehow appreciated. Wonwoo had barely remembered his birthday until now. At least it explains the dozen missed calls from not only Junhui and his brother as well as his parents. He considers shooting the younger a quick message to ask him to tell his parents he won’t be home for at least a few hours.

Seokmin lets him after one more hug and exits the house whilst hurrying Minghao up.

“Good morning, birthday hyung!” Minghao greets with a mouthful of whatever, ankles crossed and shoulder leaning on the kitchen entrance. Different from the last time they saw each other at their last surf session on Jungmun earlier in the week, his hair is now bleached. It would look terrible in anybody else, but pulling any look seems to be one of his many talents. “You had a good night?”

Wonwoo huffs out a laugh and moves past the joint-kitchen to pull the living room curtains to the side and look out the window. “Do you mean to ask if Mingyu and I fucked?”

“Bet you didn’t. I’ve slept like a baby last night.”

Outside, Seokmin is backing up his bike from the backyard. The sky is blue with only a few light clouds smudging it white. He smiles after learning the lawn is green though chunks of it are burnt. In November he had wondered how this same backyard would look through the seasons and now he’s almost coming full circle – fall first, then winter, spring and finally summer.

“Hey, Hao. Do you have a kink that involves people not being allowed to make noises or sorts?” he asks spinning around to face the younger again. They’re also coming full circle here: since their first encounter Wonwoo knew Xu Minghao was a brat and he wasn’t wrong in the slightest. Minghao almost beats him to how annoying he can be. “Sollie has never struck me as the vanilla type of guy so maybe when you two are going to town–“

“It’s funny how you guys are so sure that Sol and I are actually fucking,” Minghao interrupts him with an amused chuckle, taping his spoon against the rim of his bowl. “That’s nonsense.”

“If you’re not, then you will one day.”

“Aight. If it makes you feel better.” The younger shudders his shoulders after swallowing a huge bite of a carrot. He returns to the kitchen to drop his bowl inside the sink and flips him the middle finger before following Seokmin out the bungalow.

Returning to Mingyu's bedroom, bed and warmth, Wonwoo settles in the atmosphere with ease. He admires the way Mingyu has rolled over on bed now and doesn’t stir in his sleep even when he crawls to Mingyu’s hiding spot below the sheets. Wonwoo has positioned his limbs in the spaces left by Mingyu’s own, bed dipping to his weight, flesh heating to the proximity and to the sun being finally up after two stormy days.

The sunlight peeks inside the bedroom revealing tiny particles of dust floating in the air and covers the bed with a fine white light veil. It’s a warm day, suitable for surfing and driving around the island with no destination in mind. Wonwoo, however, wants to stay in, kissing his boy, floating in this moment.

Mingyu grants his wish, it seems. After waking up with his voice rough from having not used it in hours, and exchanging a few words about Minghao’s hair, Seokmin’s birthday kiss and having coffee together - a flimsy attempt of making the morning look less unusual than it really is, with all their odd talk on the previous night - he lets it go and pushes his body up on his elbows to capture Wonwoo’s lips on his. And it shows how his mind still travels back and forth between questioning why Wonwoo is still with him and giving in to the fingernails that move to trace his neck, teeth tugging his pretty lips, the pressure fattening his cock until he’s had enough of teasing and is on the brink of losing total control. All due to the unapologetic boy trapping Mingyu under him, legs straddling his hips and grinding down to meet Mingyu’s erection.

“Teaser,” the younger says, tightening his grip on Wonwoo’s neck and pulling him down as an incentive. They’re not dirty talking yet, but they will soon and this alone makes him shiver in anticipation.

Wonwoo feels it, the effect the ondulation of his hips have on Mingyu. They kiss with purpose. Claim each other’s lips, brush their teeth against one another, lick the inside of their mouths and pour breathless and satisfied moans into it.  
Mingyu’s phone goes off against the underside of Wonwoo’s knees, vibrating insistently, but he takes care of it by fishing it inside Mingyu’s pockets and tossing it away so whoever’s messaging can’t disturb them. So whoever’s messaging won’t even have the chance of making him feel all weird for catching feelings in the first place.

With Wonwoo’s brief distraction, he’s rolled over on bed and held on place by Mingyu’s firm grasp that pushes him down until he’s sinking on the mattress. He’s legs are parted and he feels at Mingyu’s mercy again, which sends a spike of arousal to his dick, it twitching in the most delicious way. His shirt is gone, and he is having trouble breathing because Mingyu doesn’t go easy on him, pressing his hips, touching his entire body, tongue tracing the curve of his lips and thrusting inside his willing mouth.

Denim jeans off, Wonwoo tries to get completely naked to put things into motion already, but it’s stopped and convinced to stay still and wait until he’s said otherwise. Mingyu puts distance between them the moment he gets on his feet to peel off his sweatpants and shirt. Being apart aches bad. The need of having Mingyu on him works on his skin and consumes it until there’s only bones.

Unable to take it for longer, Wonwoo moves to the edge of the bed and closer. Mingyu is naked and his killer body is in full display. It comes to Wonwoo how much he adores Mingyu. His tall body, his needy moans, his pink lips, his kisses and goofy smile. “...The way you fuck my brains out,” he tells the waiter in between the adoring kisses he confides to his tan navel, stomach and chest, lips brushing against the burning flesh, a bit toughened by the amount of sun, falls and by life in general.

Wonwoo returns to his place on bed because he always wants to be good for Mingyu and the latter is on him a second later, soothing his need of being close without even acknowledging it. Wonwoo gets rid of his boxers, the only article of clothing keeping his erection hidden from Mingyu’s eyes and his cock brushes against the higher part of Mingyu’s thigh.

The friction combined with everything else has him unfastening his lips to get Mingyu’s attention. “Mingyu?”

“Yeah…?”

Mingyu presses a flimsy kiss to his lips and his eyes are on Wonwoo’s even when he does it. His hands are stretched out, fingers already grazing the drawer in which he keeps the stuff they need. Wonwoo’s neck heat up and he doesn’t think he can say it anymore.

A moment passes.

“Don’t–” he tries fighting the urge to bite his lips, “no condom. I haven’t slept with anybody else besides you since our first night,” he reveals, even if it sounds more like a love confession than an attempt to assure Mingyu that he’s definitely not trying to endanger him.

“Really?” Mingyu asks it so fast it makes Wonwoo notice how stupid it is, of course. But these intense feelings make him stupid to the max and he lets it go, can’t back out now.

“I swear,” he assures him one more time, “wouldn’t lie to you. I’ve never lied to you. Besides, it’s my birthday, for fucks sake. Wanna feel you.” He huffs out a laugh. He’s an idiot but at least he’s speaking his truth.

“I haven’t slept with anybody else as well,” Mingyu says, clueing to his strong-willed nature. He gets what he wants, goes where he needs and it frightens Wonwoo.

This time however Wonwoo’s insides turn to mush and he becomes a puddle of warmth. With a sentence Mingyu eases all the worries that have been disturbing Wonwoo’s head for the past weeks and gave him that sickening sensation at the pity of his stomach each moment he’d reminisce Mingyu’s date and love life in general.

Mingyu may have kissed multiple somebody elses in the last eight months. May have treated them the same way he treats Wonwoo, perhaps even better. Went on dates, shared stories of his life with them. Stolen their french fries and later kissed them in the pouring rain. But, alright, Mingyu’s with him now, and for the past eight months Wonwoo has been the best he ever had and the only one who gets to hear Mingyu whispering stuff that sound so real it leaves no doubt about how satisfied he is whenever they’re having sex.

This is a start. And, if not a start, at least something. He’ll focus on it now. He’s happy and he is Mingyu’s to own for the upcoming hour, and he isn’t afraid of telling him such later on.

Showering together it’s a bad idea. Not only because it’s clear that being by themselves at the bungalow whilst tucked inside of a cubicle, naked and dripping sweat and water will lead them to have sex again - it’s hard not to! - but also because Wonwoo insists in keeping a hand over Mingyu’s eyes, forbidding the man from looking down at him because he certainly had the worst amongst the two of them. There’s goo even inside of his guts and on his thighs and stomach and soon enough he learns that cleaning up with only one hand free is an incredibly difficult task.  

“Hyung,” Mingyu meows, moving forward. Wonwoo’s arm flexes. “I’m so sorry I didn’t pull out.”

“Said no guy ever,” Wonwoo replies, but he isn’t complaining. God, he really isn’t. “If you are sorry then you could at least pretend. You’re smiling. And it’s a huge ass smile.”

Men. His own species. So predictable when it comes to sex - Mingyu, predictable for really going for it and releasing inside of him; Wonwoo, for feeling so fucking fantastic for Mingyu doing it.

“Eh, you’re right. I’m not sorry.”  

Mingyu doesn’t hide his grin, but Wonwoo stops moving around, scrubbing his hand all over his body. The shorter looks up to the other, who is now nearer though obeying him and keeping a certain distance between the two of them. Mingyu is still covered with a sheen of sweat, his chest pitches up and down with ease and Wonwoo releases an amused grin to the man standing in front of him.

This is something they have never done before. Well, another one. The day is full of first times - birthday sex, no condoms, showering together, staying the night - and it’s still morning. Doing these things more often would be nice, Wonwoo concludes watching Mingyu in silence. This is good.

He presses their lips together first, head craned to make it possible, then his hand stops obstructing Mingyu’s view and moves to the nape of Mingyu’s neck to clutch softly at it, pulling him closer until his back hits the tilled wall and he is pressing Mingyu’s naked body to his own.

They kiss until Mingyu is soaking wet for standing below the beads of water and their lips are tinted pink again. “Happy birthday,” Mingyu says against Wonwoo’s jawline, hands on his hips. He grazes his teeth against the flesh and threatens to bite it, but more words are poured on it. “Happy birthday,” he wishes again. “Happy birthday,” and again, until Wonwoo is feeling ticklish and getting hard again.

The feeling is pretty much mutual, for he can feel Mingyu’s cock slowly growing hard against his hip.

“You’re having a good one, hyung?” Mingyu asks dangerously low in his ear and his lips are gone a second later, only to lick at his neck, so slow it hurts. He, however, doesn’t wait for a reply to take Wonwoo’s cock in his wet palms and give it slow albeit determined tugs.

Wonwoo nods yes, the feeling of Mingyu jerking him off to full hardness dousing his words but not his thoughts.

That’s how it usually happens. Mingyu asks him questions he can’t lie about when they’re horny and getting each other off, when he is exposed the most. Wonwoo rarely reciprocates it, too lost in his own feelings to question why Mingyu does this to him, why is so important or if they’re in the same page at all.

On rare occasions such as today, he feels like asking if Mingyu has fun with him too or something along these words. It’s crazy how needy he’s gotten during the past weeks.

Totally hard now, Wonwoo spins around to face the wall and puts his head on his forearm. His neck is promptly attacked. Slowly attacked with kisses, short licks and nibbles that hold no intention of rending skin. It doesn’t take long until he is feeling two thick fingers slipping past his buttcheeks. He fights multiple shudders when Mingyu easily thrusts them in and out a handful of times and raises an arm to help his balance against the wall.     

He is open and slippery but Mingyu takes his time either way. It’s slow and warm and even when Mingyu ruts against his butt and penetrates him in sequence, it doesn’t feel like their usual sex.

They have done it slow before, specially on nights after hard shifts at the yacht club and the bakery, when Wonwoo wouldn’t even know how he’d end up in the bungalow, in Mingyu’s presence altogether. But not like this as they don’t even seem to be chasing an orgasm, just continuing connected intimately until there’s no escape but actually coming.

Mingyu feels good inside of him, supplying with just enough incentive for Wonwoo’s cock to remain hard whilst drawing his cock in to nuzzle the tip on his prostate and out in slow drags, making Wonwoo feel easy and lethargic. He’s in the headspace. They should have done it before, it’s what he thinks a millisecond before a loud bang echoes inside the bathroom and startles him.

A desperate and rushed stream of “Oh my God!” follows on the other side of the glass shower stall. It gets louder inside way too fast for Wonwoo to follow. There’s too many people inside the bathroom.

“Please, no,” he groans, this time not because Mingyu is halfway inside of his sorry ass and checking with his own eyes what’s going on but because the universe has got to be kidding him.

Chan gotta piss, and he shouts it loudly when he gets inside the bathroom. Soonyoung asks what the fuck is going on.

“Mingyu and Wonwoo-hyung are fucking in the shower.” Minghao shouts and runs outside, leaving the door open. They all do.

And that’s the moment Wonwoo tries very hard to tune everybody else down and slams his head against the wall, considering blacking out for a while and feigning amnesia when he eventually has to face their friends. They won’t let it slide. They’ll never let it slide and clown him for the rest of his existence.

“Fellas, I want to piss so bad. I'm closing my eyes. Pretend I’m not here and just do your stuff,” Soonyoung says stripped of concern and somehow making it sound cute. This Wonwoo can’t ignore.

“Soonyoung, leave, please,” he groans hiding his face and reaching a hand out to search for Mingyu’s hand, trying to brace himself on him.

“Hyung, what the hell! Get out already!” Mingyu shouts, but it’s clear he isn’t as embarrassed as Wonwoo is.

Forget about all the years rationing embarrassing situations. This is worth twenty-two-years of humiliation.

Wonwoo has the back of his head caressed, hips touched in assurance. “They’re so embarrassing,” he whines in a hushed tone, now even more lethargic than before. His cheeks are flushed, he is sure.

“I second that,” Mingyu says, nosing at his ear and having him cocking his head to the side.

Soonyoung is gone seconds later.

“I’ll remember this forever. They’ll remember this forever. Highlight of my birthday, definitely.”

Mingyu makes up for him right away. No one is coming inside the bathroom anytime soon and the interruption seems to rush them, who decide that it’d be a waste of time not finishing what they were doing. So they do. Silently but quite fast.

Mingyu spills inside of him yet again, which maximizes his already huge problem of how to get rid of come that, he swears, was planted so far up, he may have to squat down and wait.

He watches Mingyu finish his shower with the ugliest frown he can pull off, backs to the wall and arms folded over his chest, and bats Mingyu’s hand away when he tries to pull him for a kiss and threatens to punch his nose if he comes any closer. Kisses lead to sex and sex, now, maximizes his problem because Mingyu did it once, did it twice, and if Wonwoo lets him (and of course he would!), he’ll do it again. The safest way out of this is sending Mingyu out the bathroom, as distant as possible while he takes care of his stupid problem alone, as he should.

It takes him a few minutes to solve it, but he does it. He can even say he is proud of himself for taking less time than he predicted.

On his way to Mingyu’s bedroom, he sees the man, now dressed in fresh clothes, head outside the apparently empty house, which gives him time to put on his clothes and finish the coffee he had offered before they had engaged in all of this traumatic experience. The others have left and he can gather at least a bit of his confidence again, at least until he has to face them.

In the kitchen, Wonwoo starts setting the stuff he’ll need. He has never been good making coffee without a machine but he has seen many people doing it on TV, so he plans on trying as soon as he settles mugs for the both of them on the counter and fumbles inside the high cupboards in search of the coffee pot he is certain Seokmin, Mingyu and Minghao own.

The voices outside the bungalow grow in volume and Wonwoo stops on his tracks, forgetting about coffee, sugar and his starving stomach altogether. When the porch floorboards creak in familiar rhythm, Wonwoo sinks down to his knees without even acknowledging. It’s not like he can hide from his friends forever, but his brain strongly advises him to give it a try.

Mingyu’s voice is low though louder than a whisper, but Wonwoo only notices he’s talking to Minghao when the younger speaks up again, insisting that Mingyu should say something about whatever they are talking about.

Listening to Mingyu and Minghao come inside the bungalow arguing, Wonwoo sits on his heels, hands clasped on his thighs, and munches on his lips apprehensively for being in the middle of it and especially for assuming it has something to do with what happened inside the bathroom. Their friends are a bunch of piece of shit, he won’t deny it, but fighting each other sounds a bit of a reach, alright? It was stupid of them, he gets it. He’s mortified, but he knows it was an accident. He’s more worried about the repercussions than with what happened.

Wonwoo grins by himself, keeping as silent as he can but planning on spooking an apparently pissed Mingyu as soon as he hears the other making it clear the others have embarrassed Wonwoo inside the bathroom and this isn’t the perfect time to approach a certain subject. Hell. Tell him about being babyed, eh? Mingyu can complain all he wants about the way Wonwoo treats him sometimes, but at least now, he’s the one arguing his best friend on his behalf. There’s no need for such drama, but Wonwoo feels his heart thumping inside his ribcage. Who would have thought how nice it would feel not having to fight his own battles all by himself at least once?

 _“How am I supposed to tell him that I’m in love with him like that, outta the blue? This is not how it goes.”_ These are Mingyu’s actual words and he hates how his ears perch at it, silly grin faltering instantly.   

Minghao calls Mingyu out on this bullshit again. Doubts that Mingyu doesn’t enjoy being solely a fucking buddy, accuses him of being head over heels for far too long now and putting off their talk every chance he gets. It’s a tad mean on his part, Wonwoo thinks, but the words are a deluge threatening to drown him.

“Guys!” Wonwoo jumps to his feet and the word leave his mouth before he can help it.

Minghao is the first to acknowledge his presence. He looks terrified, a deer in the highlights. Wonwoo is a tad terrified with everything he has just heard too, so they’re good.

Like a queer child outted in the middle of the classroom, Mingyu, unlike the other two, freezes. It would have been painful for Wonwoo if their positions were switched.

“My bad, Gyu, I wanted you two to talk but not like this,” Minghao confesses to his best friend before leaving the bungalow to God knows where. But Wonwoo makes his words his own. Not like this, not on his birthday, not when he feels so happy for doing things they have never done before.

It's awkward in a way, but neither Wonwoo nor Mingyu are shying away from finally talking their situation out. Where do they stand, where they're going, what is going on even. Things have gotten considerably foggy now and Wonwoo wants to understand, soothe his confused mind. He desperately wants to keep on good terms with Mingyu.

Mingyu is in front of him in a second. The cake he has in his hands is placed on the counter but the tip of his thumbs are tinted blue from all the food coloring added to the dessert. Wonwoo feels bad for wasting what looks like his birthday surprise.

“Is it true?” he asks, eyes rooted to the cake. The frosting is melting deliciously, forming puddles of blue on the see-through plastic container. “I don't wanna embarrass you but is it true...? You really mean it?”

Mingyu shifts awkwardly and hides his hands on his back, balancing the weight of his body on the counter. Wonwoo can't make him speak, but he desperately wants to clarify everything, and it will be easier if Mingyu offers him a hand here, you know?

“I was," Mingyu tells him with caution, "I am. But it wasn’t supposed to go like that. It’s exactly what I meant. I’d use better words but I can't take them back now, can I?”

Alright. This is good. They're doing great so far. Nice and slow, baby steps. They can talk about it without getting weird, it seems, and maybe they can even stay in each other's lives without feeling embarrassed when the smoke eventually clears.

Folding his arms over his chest to at least try and look less exposed than he feels already after all the shit their friends pulled in the bathroom and now this, Wonwoo gives a step forward to stand in front of Mingyu. “And… You wanna stop?" he asks, because they have danced around this possibility the night before, even if they hadn't came to a consensus. He's still dying to know many things that don't add up though. "That's why Minghao said we should talk?”

The way Mingyu raises his eyes to stare at him knocks the the wind out of him. The taller looks serious and urgent. “What? No, I'd never want to stop. I do like you," he says, a hint of hurt coating his words. "I like you a lot to be honest. How can I stop this, whatever this is, if I want even more? I want this and whatever’s supposed to come after this, I guess.”

“So what you’re saying is you want _this_ and _that_ too? As in... You have feelings and you want us to evolve to something else?”

“Shit, Wonwoo, I’m sorry. I don't want to be rude but am I rambling? Like, just tell me if I’m confusing you. You know I’m lame when I open my mouth.”

Isn’t like that. Mingyu is fine with his words. He's pretty good with them, actually. His carefreeness always shows and Wonwoo adores him for this amongst other things. The thing is this doesn't sound exactly realistic. Head over heels for far too long, Minghao said. There’s something undeniably wrong going on.

Wonwoo himself hasn’t acknowledged his feelings for more than a week, which can only mean that Mingyu has caught feelings before Wonwoo did. Mingyu goes on dates (Wonwoo is over this subject, he swears he is!) and shit, acts as single as one can be. Wonwoo, on the other hand, is the one refusing to have anything with another human being, if not Mingyu, because he is the best, he feels the best — Mingyu can’t possibly be in love. Not with Wonwoo at least.

Which are the odds of the two of them having been pinning for each other without acknowledging their feelings?  

“No, you’re not,” he assures. “Not rambling and not lame. At all. I'm just trying to get this right. I've been through tough moments the past week and it got worse when I thought I had fucked up big time by kissing you out of nowhere.”

“What happened this week?” Mingyu foolishly asks.

Wonwoo heaves a rather silent sigh. Mingyu happened last night and he tells him such with his shoulders rising and falling just once, brows drawing together on his face at the memoir of all the doubts that have grew in him for the past days. “You have always treated me well, of course, and it’s… Sweet and great. I talked about it with Junhui and Jihoon last night and I ended up visiting my feelings." He feels tired all of a sudden. Spent even. He sighs again, because there's so much to say, arms sagging low and finally dropping to his sides. "Mingyu-yah, speaking of last night."

“Do you remember last night?” Mingyu asks, jaw hanging low. Wonwoo averts his eyes.

“I'm a lightweight, but I didn't have that much to drink. The past week was really good because we had great moments, but difficult as fuck too. I had a lot to think about. Whatever this is–I've been referring to us like this for months–, contrary to what I suggested, I don't want you to stop as well. Whatever this is I don't want to stop. I genuinely thought you were about to end it all. And it hurt me so bad to think about it. It hurt me more than it would hurt if this was only... sex.”

Looking back now, he should have seen it coming, considering how long they have been going at it. If this was a matter of sex as he claimed for the past eight months, all this lust would have faded by now. It happened before, should have happened now. But it didn't, which means how shit it'd be to part ways with Mingyu now that he is so gone for him.

Mingyu gnaws at his bottom lip apprehensively. “What…? Hyung, you don't have to say these things to make me feel better. Don't feel guilty if you’re not interested or if you think I’m too young and not your type at all.”

“Not my type?” Wonwoo repeats. “Are you even listening to yourself right now? That’s far from how I feel. We've been having sex for eight months non-stop and exclusively. How are you not my type?”

“I mean the type you fall in love with. Sex is sex, isn't it? Sex is not that important.”

He hasn't been the best at showing Mingyu how fond of him he is as a person, but this isn’t the entire truth. Mingyu had heard. During sex, he had heard Wonwoo confessing. And he meant it, all the stuff and little nothing's he said while their erections were rubbing together, their tongues touching, fingers intertwined. Each and every time. Wonwoo had said a thousand times how fond of Mingyu he was in his own way.

Mingyu still stares at him, burning holes on his face. Hasn't averted his eyes as many times as Wonwoo, actually. Wonwoo doesn't know how he does it, how he always sounds, moves and looks at him with such boldness.

“It wouldn’t be like this if I was with anybody else, but at some point it has become important to me... I started to crave you all the time. I'm not only interested in sex, being with you became a huge part of my routine," he counts shyly. "I feel happier when we’re around each other.”

Mingyu's eyes shift at Wonwoo's sudden confession. “Shit, yes, exactly," he agrees, "I’ve been trying to tell you this for weeks… But every moment I tried, something would come up or I would give up because it never seemed the proper time. Hyung, I've fucked a fair share of people-"

Wonwoo clenches his eyes shut. Not now, not now. If Mingyu starts mentioning his dates he'll break down right here and now because he feels all sensitive already and he's trying so hard to be honest. “Mingyu-yah, are you trying to make me feel jealous?” he asks in a breathy, sad whisper.

From behind closed lids, it's like the living room and joint kitchen have been engulfed by the nightfall. It's suddenly darker than before. He is flicking his eyes open again when Mingyu touches him, cupping his face in his hands. He is on him now, distance between them almost nonexistent.

“No, never! What I meant was, although you weren't my first, I've never felt as good with anyone as I feel with you, hyung. They really mean it when they say sex with someone you love is the best kind of sex ever. I nearly blurted that I'm so gone for you earlier when you said you’re mine.” Mingyu sucks in a breath and draws patterns on Wonwoo's cheeks and jawline with a finger.

Mingyu really had to quote the stuff he says when they have sex, didn't he? Wonwoo is faded to walk through this world with the weight of his bad choice of words on his shoulders. “Have I said this?” he asks and opens his eyes to glare at him, but ends up breaking into a dopey grin for reasons that go beyond him. “I'm kidding, I know what I said. I promise I meant every little word I've said the times we made love.”

Mingyu lets go of his face instantly and grips at his hips, so cautiously that Wonwoo feels a piece of China in his hands. “Yeah?” he asks with a smirk of his own. “Even the ‘Mingyu-yah, I've never been dicked so good because you're huge’?” he jokes.

“I think you're confusing real Wonwoo to the one living in your wildest dreams,” Wonwoo warns, wanting to kiss him so bad now they're this close, invading each other's space as they have been doing lately more than ever. He wants to kiss Mingyu until sundown, have the day pass them by without parting ways, wants their lips swollen and red, Mingyu's sharp canines rending the flesh. “Shit. You have a great personality and to top it off, your dick is amazing.”

“See? This is what I’m talking about. Your smile and lips are things I think about lots, you know?” Mingyu looks at him that way again, sober and serious, but somewhat amazed, and tilts his chin towards him. He's fidgety, thumbing at Wonwoo's long plaid shirt, hands still on his hips. "They make everything easier. You give me butterflies and a boner every single day."

Wonwoo huffs out a laugh. Mingyu has been straight-forward since the beginning, since that morning at the surf shop, inviting him for Minghao's birthday, letting him know he was interested and giving him his number. “That's the most romantic thing anyone ever told me," he confesses, mind still hooked to their brief conversation in Mingyu's bedroom the night they got together for the first time.

Mingyu had looked silly back then, joking about being so interested in him that he would be willing to give him his last name and such things. He's thankful for Mingyu trying so hard to be with him that night, even more for this town—this Island— having brought them together.  

Wonwoo cranes his head in a way he can capture Mingyu's lips on his. He withdraws quickly, but as usual, Mingyu, who is so eager and unapologetic, pulls him in, lips gracelessly smacking his own again.

Wonwoo is tossed to a state of grace. This is bliss.

"My bad. Carry on," the taller says in sequence. He's unstoppable, isn't he?

Wonwoo pulls Mingyu inside his flimsy embrace, heart beating in erratic compass. “Will you date me now? That's what we both want, right? We should make it official now,” he says rather hurriedly for someone who never bothered to draw the line in his affairs. The case is Mingyu wasn't around before. Things have changed now.

“Yes, I’ll date you," Mingyu says with a soft pout and his gaze lost in Wonwoo's own, "but Minghao will kill me if I tell him you were the one who brought that up and not the other way around, hyung."

Wonwoo grins wide. He can't believe Mingyu is concerned with this. “We can always hide this from him," he proposes and then his own concerns hit him again, "are they coming inside?”

Mingyu circles Wonwoo's body with his hands, touching him all over and pulling him closer until there's no space between them. It's great to be held like this in broad daylight instead of in the middle of the night only. Now they're allowed to do this and so much more.

“They’re busy hotboxing Jihoon-hyung’s car and talking about the boundaries of sexuality," the waiter explains, amused. Wonwoo is a hundred percent endeared. "I mean…” he shrugs.

“No Chinese spies?" Wonwoo recalls one of Soonyoung's favorite tales with surprise. "That's disappointing.”

Mingyu shakes his head no. “Bet they won't come inside anytime sooner.”

“Good. Glad to know we have some alone time in the house.” Wonwoo begrudgingly slips out of Mingyu's grasp to give him a good look. It's a sunny day and Jungmun is definitely breaking after the rainstorm the island been through. "Oh, unless you wanna go surfing, of course.”

Mingyu's eyes, usually kind, narrow suspiciously. They scream a 'come here' whilst Mingyu's hand moves upwards to stroke Wonwoo's left cheek. “Eh. Not really. Surf can wait,” he confesses and it's a first.

Jungmun may have gone flat when they eventually find time to surf again, but they surely will be back in two or three days, the flat never lasting more than a week during the rain season. Wonwoo and Mingyu, however, have waited for quite some time to get where they are now, in this comfortable moment in which they can open up and talk things out and they have so much to do already. It's only fair their relationship call dibs.

“Surf can definitely wait."

 

 

 

 


	4. Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (EPILOGUE)
> 
>  
> 
> what else could I wish for, honey? my heart is enough and it's completely filled by you... this feels so right, everything is good if you are here. (seventeen)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meant to use another song for this chapter's summary but hehe good to me is my jam!  
> stream HOME <3

The ocean is in constant movement.

It never appeases, it doesn't matter how idle the day looks with the sun providing the warmth of a blanket whilst it sets on the horizon and how the apparent calmness of the water can barely rock a surfboard and carry it back to the shallows by the high tide, even if one feels like being lulled to a well-deserved nap when they hit the beach after a tiring shift at work.

Out the sea, the wind is responsible for disturbing the water’s surface and, hence, creating never-ending undulations that carry energy onshore; when these undulations eventually find a hindrance (the coast it is) to its journey, chances are they will break and rise, causing the tall waves that are so dear to surfers.

Now, just so you know, such as in almost every subtle happenstance in life, each one-meter-tall wave has started as a subtle, inconspicuous undulation not even detectable by those who watch from the shore – to put it so delicately, every tree was once a green bud breaking the soil, and maybe the one you’re with now once was the same person you promised yourself you’d only kiss that _one_ night, until, of course, you got addicted to that first taste and couldn’t get enough or see yourself _without_ for not even another day.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

For the first time in the latest shift of seasons, summer feels like summer. Jungmun is breaking. The islanders are out and about. Seungcheol and Jeonghan argue in the bakery. The boys hotbox Jihoon’s shit car. The sun is up, the sky is blue; it's beautiful and so is Mingyu, who feeds Wonwoo his ice cream birthday cake on the bungalow’s caramel sofa.

At the end of the day, Mingyu takes Wonwoo home and by the door they promise to see each other the following day. Inside the house, the lights are dimmed down and Wonwoo finds out he has just walked into his second birthday surprise when his parents and brother jump from behind the sofas screaming his name and he almost falls on his butt.

During dinner, Wonwoo tells his parents that he spent his birthday with someone named Mingyu, because, at least for him, it’s important that they know about Mingyu's existence in his life, even if not the place he holds in it yet. The pair doesn’t ask more than any other parent interested in knowing why their child spent an important day away from home and his brother makes everything in his power not to ask what exactly happened during the night he was away.

He also insists to meet Mingyu and they do two days before he has to return to Seoul. Wonwoo’s younger brother tells Mingyu that surfing, waking up early, smoking joints and soaking up the sun isn’t his style and Mingyu says he’s funny. That’s how they hit it off, which is odd but understandable.

For what’s left of July, Wonwoo spares himself from trying to predict all the drastic changes that will affect his and Mingyu’s relationship since becoming official, for he is incredibly unaware of which direction to follow after deciding to commit. They don’t actually sit down to talk things out at first, but eventually end up finding themselves discussing aspects of their relationship same way they would discuss new video games about to be released or what to get for dinner the nights they are together. As expected from their seamless dynamic, things flow and soon enough Wonwoo notices the walls they built opposed to each other when it came to their feelings and thoughts collapsing with time, and when they do, everything falls in its designed places on their own.

One warm night, beginning of August, his parents come home and inform him that they greeted Mingyu after learning that he’s Wonwoo’s waiter friend, and they seem quite fond of the idea of repeating it the following nights, without fail. Wonwoo tells Mingyu not to befriend his parents and the younger listens carefully though pointing out that he can’t just ignore the couple and pretend they don't exist. Soon enough, Wonwoo is joining them at the club more often, for he feels anxious to both adore Mingyu and keep his parents away, always counting the hours to that moment of the night when they can sneak to the emergency stairs to steal one or a thousand kisses from each other.

September hasn’t reached its second week yet when Mingyu tells Wonwoo that he loves him. They’re sitting on the steps. The white light casts a halo above Mingyu’s head; Wonwoo doesn’t look quite as graceful, having delicious cream cheese on his fingertips from the appetizers Mingyu is supposed to take to the ballroom.

Assuming never having being good in allowing people further inside his head, he can’t quite reply the way he wants to, even if he feels the same, no doubt.

His brain is a whole lotta mess and it’s just fair that the entire thing is closed for visitation, no tourists, no outsiders allowed. Even after being led to believe he doesn’t has anything inside at all because all of his knowledge comes more from life experience than from school education and this kind of know-how having not being properly encouraged by his family in the slightest, he finds sort of a safe place in everything he knows like the back of his hand, and that’s the Pacific sea and the silence of his solitude.

Mingyu, the brilliant one, seems to get it just fine as he doesn’t look fazed at all by the lack of response and even cackles at the mess Wonwoo is making of his hands and clothes. They part ways within minutes, Mingyu returning to the kitchen to refill his tray and Wonwoo joining his parents. Nayoung is seeing someone, she tells him, but Wonwoo isn’t paying attention. He tells her he’s seeing someone too and so the girl starts asking questions as if her life depends on how fast her tongue works, and that’s it. Night’s over.

Wonwoo waits for Mingyu at the bungalow porch, having no idea how long Mingyu will take to leave work. When Mingyu eventually gets home, his bow-tie is loose around his neck and his hair points in every direction because he just got out of the 02:46 a.m. bus and there’s no way someone can get out of this bus without looking at least a little all over the place.

Mingyu looks surprised in meeting Wonwoo again in the same night, this time on his doorstep. He waits for an explanation, but all he gets is Wonwoo’s body pressing against  his, thin arms and tight grip around his waist, a rather simple ‘I love you lots, y’know?’ coated with feelings and a ‘let’s sleep’ that comes right in sequence.  

So the days roll.

Having January come alongside winter's dry, cold days and empty beaches, on his day off, with a heavy backpack hanging from his shoulders, Wonwoo, a rainy season veteran, hops on every other puddle of frost that has melted on the sidewalk overnight, water splashing on his black combat boots.

Aside from the people waiting for the next intercity bus at a stop nearby, the road to Jungmun is busy this morning, with cars crossing it on their way downtown because it’s still a Thursday and the villagers got to work and movement the economy. One more day, their flushed faces and shrunk shoulders say, one more day and they will be rewarded by being able to spend the weekend inside their houses under warm blankets, drinking hot chocolate and tea.

But not him. Thank God, not him.

Wonwoo whirls a couple times at the bungalow’s entryway. Literally whirls and dances to the song coming from his earbuds, and hops a final puddle before getting to the porch, where he knocks on the door and awaits someone to open up.

Mingyu shows up from behind the door, enveloped in a cozy parka and looking surprisingly fresh from what looks like a warm shower. The voices coming from inside the residence rise in volume. Within moments, he’s pulling Wonwoo inside with a single arm wrapped flimsily around the older’s waist and trusting a greeting kiss to his neck.

“I’m almost ready to go. Have to close my bag and I’m ready.”

Wonwoo drops his bag and removes his jacket and boots on his way to join Minghao and Soonyoung on the sofa, dropping it between the hall and the living room. He plucks one of his earbuds off his ear.

“Do you think,” Minghao starts just in time for Wonwoo to hear, disastrous bleached hair fixed now, “the guys dealing with your stuff at the luggage belt will ask themselves what the hell you’re doing travelling with your surfboards in freaking winter?"

"Showing off my masterpieces,” Junhui says from the counter, having him worked his ass off on Wonwoo's brand new deck for weeks on end since December. "Should tell them to please frame it and applaud.”

Well. There is a chance people will look at them funny when they show up to the airport with their surfing gadgets, but it’s not really his fault surfing isn’t one of the country's national sports.

Wonwoo plans on telling Minghao such when their eyes meet and he recalls how humiliating the younger had found being the one chosen to sit on Soonyoung’s lap on Jihoon’s car, for being the tiniest amongst them all.

Soonyoung’s elbow is poking firmly at his ribs at the moment and he can only imagine how tight the backseat will be when they all try to fit inside the car. “You guys didn’t have to take us to the airport,” he informs, going out of course. “We’re spending only one weekend away, not moving to Busan.”

“It’s alright,” Soonyoung says with a mouthful of bread. “Thank us later. Since we can’t travel with you, we can at least skip work for a few hours, no?”

“Well,” he ponders, “you could have taken the weekend off and come to Busan with us.”

Jihoon crosses the living room with large steps, urging his body to move faster toward the rest of his friends. “In this goddamn weather?” he questions and Wonwoo is a hundred percent sure that Jihoon’s constant complaints about the weather are the most efficient way he found to kill time during fall and winter. He’ll be unbearable when he graduates from University in a month. He'll have entire days to complain in his hands and this can't be good.

Minghao snickers sullen-like and sinks further down in the sofa, arms at each side of his body, fingertips scratching softly at the fabric of Wonwoo’s pants. “This gon’ be the most peaceful weekend of my life since you two met. Why on Earth would I travel with you when I can stay in Jeju _without_ you? I must sleep the entire weekend.”

“Not going because Mingyu wouldn’t let me,” Soonyoung complains, shooting a harsh glance to Mingyu, who tries to shove a horrible pajama inside his luggage. In all honesty, Wonwoo is a bit surprised Mingyu has followed with his plan of packing something he definitely won’t get to use, even after Wonwoo has suggested him to simply forget it.

“They’re going to Busan so they can sex each-other’s brains out. Hyung’s not missing much.”

Granted, if their twelve-year-old friends had invited themselves to join them, they’d certainly find a way to send Wonwoo off to sleep as farther away as possible from Mingyu and conveniently tuck themselves between the couple until they were pushed apart into different corners of the room so they wouldn’t have the chance of getting too intimate in their presence.

"Why would you assume I’d spend my savings going to Busan to have sex when I can do it right here, for free?” Mingyu asks.

Wonwoo nudges a foot on Mingyu’s knee with affection. “Eat dirt, Mingyu!”

“A weird kink?" Minghao reasons. "You wanting to have sex at 35,000 feet above the ground? You being together for some time now? I don’t know and I don’t care, man! Spare me the details!"

Wonwoo clucks his tongue in rebuke. “Mingyu's joking. We don’t even go to town when we’re together. We only, like, pray,” he says with a frown. “You got it all wrong.”

Soonyoung raises a finger and twirls it on air at hypnotizing speed. “Mingyu and Wonwoo only do the dirty on missionary. Confirmed!”  

Having Hansol and Minghao finally revealed to their friends they’re the responsible for the graffiti walls that happen to appear on the walls overnight, seeing the two of them together all the time left no doubt that the boys were only going on about their business (Wonwoo still thinks about the obvious chemistry between Hansol and Minghao, but he keeps it to himself), and, this way, even if what Mingyu and Wonwoo do or not do inside the bedroom is none of their friends’ business, it often seems like joking about their relationship it’s one of the things that makes the insipid days a little more interesting.

"Hey. There's no such thing as _hiding_ after what we saw you two doing—"

Mingyu interrupts Soonyoung by aiming a kick to his shins, all swift moves. “Reason fourteen why you’re not invited to Busan,” he sing-songs with a quiet grin, but his voice is muffled by Soonyoung's whines.

Junhui, Wonwoo’s little feline, sits down on the floorboards and rests his head against his knees. Wonwoo pets his hair and pushes Junhui’s raven hair off his forehead. "Hao and Seok should come live with us if they really want to escape from Gyu and Woo,” he suggests. “We don’t ever have sex. Not with each other at least."

"I’m not saying I’m against the idea but this won’t work out in that shoebox hyungs call an apartment. We’ll have to find a bigger place for us.”

That's when Jihoon sighs and pouts thoughtfully."It’s been a year since I last moved. I can’t go through another move."

Satisfied, Mingyu zips up his bag. Minghao jumps on his seat.

"We can find a three bedrooms place, I'm sure we can afford it. We'll switch roommates,” Soonyoung butts in. “You can have your own bedroom. I'll have Hao. Seok stays with Juni.”

"Exactly. And Mingyu and Wonwoo-hyung can have all sex they want here. No one to disturb with their obscenities."

“Obscenities? Why do you have to make it sound like Gyu and I are filming a watersports porn movie in his bedroom?”

“Watersports, uh?” Jihoon says staring at him and leaning over Minghao to pinch Wonwoo’s skinny thighs. “Disgusting, Wonwoo, I don’t blame Hao for wanting to get the frick out of here.”

On this, Wonwoo sulks and returns his earbuds to his ears so he can tune everything else until they can finally leave.

Junhui helps Wonwoo to put their bags inside the car’s trunk and fasten their surfboards to the rack on the roof, all the while claiming Wonwoo should be careful with his own stuff. Watching Junhui almost climb on top of the hood, Wonwoo watches him from the pavement, no heart to tell his friend that his board already sports a pretty ugly bump mark caused when Seokmin accidently ran over it with his infamous bike.

The sky isn’t pitch black but it’s clear the sun won’t be bathing the islanders with any warmth this morning, and that’s one of the reasons why Jihoon drives them to the airport with caution, paying attention to the damp road and allowing every other car to pass theirs. It gives them time to observe the thinnest layer of frost that melts off the tallest trees lined alongside the road, something that only happens at this time of the year even if Jeju’s weather is unpredictable.

"Thought we’d miss our flight,” Wonwoo confesses quietly, having kept Mingyu by his side from the moment they got out of the car and all rushed to find the right desk to drop their surfboards to the moment they finally had everything settled and were ready to wave their friends goodbye just before having their carry-ons checked. “Had forgotten how confusing airports can be.”

They had panicked a little in front of the giant plasma screens that announce arrivals and departures of domestic flights, but arrived at the gates on time by shamelessly pushing aside those standing in the middle of the airport lobby. There’s a cold sheen of sweat running down his face alongside his hairline, for God’s sake.

“Who’s the haole now?” Mingyu asks proud of himself, akin to a hero who has saved the world from a cruel fate, even if his knowledge of this exact airport hasn’t helped them in the slightest after Jihoon left them in the farthest entrance possible for believing in Soonyoung when he said they were at the right place. The signs have been of a bigger help, if you ask Wonwoo.

“It’s still you,” he replies, oddly excited to board the plane. Once they do, their weekend escape for which he has been excited and strongly invested in for the past month will begin. “Will always be you.”

Inside his backpack Mingyu has a month’s worth of vitamin C, bug repellent, sunscreen, wax bars, instant ramen and his stupid pajamas. No surprise it slides off his shoulders and hits the ground with a muffled thump. "Fuck.”

He bends down to pick it up off the floor and claims his limbs are numb and he gotta get inside the plan before he turns into an iceberg. Wonwoo grips Mingyu’s shoulders and pushes him to join the rest of the passengers, being the last to hand their boarding passes to a man who smiled as widely as it’s humanly possible to them and get to the boarding bridge leading up to their plane.

They walk besides each other, heavy jackets brushing at arms height each step they take, both slacking off whilst Mingyu photographs the planes taking off or landing on the runway.

“Hyung,” Mingyu addresses him after seconds of complete silence. They’re only a few steps away from their plane’s flight attendance and the line in front of them struggles not to dissipate as the passengers push past the plane’s narrow entrance.

Wonwoo looks up from his beaten up sneakers to frown at Mingyu. Averting his eyes to the boy, he is only slightly surprised after learning Mingyu has his body turned toward him and half of his face hidden behind his camera, a smirk playing around his lips, giving it an even nicer shape.

“Wait.” Wonwoo jabs a hand over the camera Mingyu points to his face. Mingyu has been taken pics of everyone and everything lately, but practicing his newly achieved hobby mostly with Wonwoo for they're always tucked to each other's side. "Gotta look presentable in this one."

"Why's that? You always do."

“I meant it. It’s the first time we go to a different place together. I want to look at this pic and be able to not cringe,” he insists and walks a step away to put some distance between them. Mingyu does the same.

They stand at opposite sides of the hallway, Mingyu photographing and Wonwoo posing with two fingers raised, the aircrafts and runaway serving as background for his photo. They’re about to take a busy flight back home and everybody awaits them to take off, but the shutter goes off at least five times before they reunite again in the middle again.

“We can go somewhere else,” Mingyu tells him. “Have dates on different places.”

“No,” Wonwoo stops him before Mingyu says anything else. Their dates have been spectacular since July; they’re always up for picking up food in the middle of the night or slack around in each other’s backyard and wait for their take out, visiting the aquarium and whatever comes to mind. He wouldn’t change a thing. “That’s not what I meant. I love our dates, we have fun! What I mean is this is our first time out of Jeju together. It’s that,” a moment’s pause, “I wasn’t expecting we’d be travelling together so soon and I’m super excited, Gyu.”

Even having been walking the tightrope at work since the end of summer, when he showed up late for his shifts for the entire season in favor of surfing in Jungmun, Mingyu promised Wonwoo that he would make it to their trip one or another when Wonwoo shared his desire of visiting Busan during winter.

“You and Hao mentioned Busan’s waves the morning we met,” Wonwoo confesses. “Guess it got stuck in my head for some reason and I started considering it as a distant wish I would like to fulfill one day. Now, here we are. You know I’ve never been anywhere else in the country aside from Jeju and Seoul, don’t you?”

“I do. You’re excited. That’s cute.”

Wonwoo shrugs shyly and gestures to the camera in Mingyu’s hands. His lovely ablaze cheeks and cognac-brown hair half hidden below his beanie fulfills the screen. “Hey. You never show me these pics you take of me and us. Don’t think they come out. That’s the reason, right? I’m the least photogenic guy in the world.”

"Though an image made of pixels and megabytes can’t even dream of competing with the real thing," the taller declares now peeking at Wonwoo – the real one — and pauses, probably expecting Wonwoo to frown or call him out for being this cheesy, but Wonwoo doesn't, so he continues, “the photos come out fine, so I keep them."

Wonwoo’s eyes are still on him, whose entire head seems buried below the hood of his parka. He would be giving in to the urge of sealing Mingyu’s lips with his own in a back-bending kiss that catches him off guard and only stopping when Mingyu is a red-lipped grinning mess if they weren’t in public.

These urges, they rise taller than Mount Hallasan. They’re constant and won’t leave him alone.

Walking inside the plane and down the aisle, Wonwoo and Mingyu don’t get to share their row with anybody since their flight is rather empty. Wonwoo stores both their bags in the overhead bin and settles down on his cushioned seat in the middle. Mingyu lazily moves his right arm to invade Wonwoo's space and wiggles his fingers, spreading them out as if seeking for something. Wonwoo reaches out to take his hand on his. Their fingers brush almost secretly and next thing he knows, they’re locking on one another and Mingyu is squeezing them, the silky touch of his thumb roaming the underside of his hand.

After they’re told to fasten their seatbelts and given the emergency instructions, Wonwoo has the mind to ask Mingyu to send him his pic when their flight is over, but Mingyu falls asleep on his shoulder within the fifteen minutes mark.

 

 

At the small hotel Wonwoo chose to hide during their short staying, their initial intention was to pick the farthest cottage available, mutually agreeing to spare the guests from all the sex and waking-up-way-too-early-to-surf they definitely would be doing, but after learning that all the cottages seemed and sounded rather empty and they’d spending the entire weekend by themselves if not for the staff (an old lady that cooked, cleaned the rooms, picked up the phone and overall aced the multitasking game), it was just considerate of them to pick a nearby cottage so the woman wouldn’t have to cross the entire hotel when it was time to clean their room.

Having remained behind the woman all the way from the front desk to their cottage and all but giggled for being this unlucky, once inside their room Mingyu calls his parents to inform them he arrived safe and sound to Busan; Wonwoo doesn’t, deciding he’ll be more successful on his task of softening up the old wax on his deck if he turns the heater on already.

He tosses their backpacks on top of one of the two double beds in their room, for they only plan on using one after all, and pushes one of the table chairs to the window of the mostly wooden spacious room. With his feet hanging from the arm of the chair, Wonwoo pulls his surfboard to his lap to prepare it for the following morning.

Wonwoo doesn’t notice when Mingyu hangs up, but the latter isn’t exactly subtle when his somewhat tight grip on Wonwoo’s chin tilt his head slightly backwards so he can lick and nibble his earlobe with softness. Wonwoo holds on for some time, ignoring Mingyu’s attempts of sex him up as if the younger is some sort of a ghost haunting him, but soon his entire body is shivering and he’s welcoming those lips on his so they can be slowly kissed and cherished for all its worth.

In the hotel’s garden there are no birds, no toads, no cicadas. Inside, no voices, no noise at all but the shuffling of their clothes against one another for Mingyu keeps one hand over Wonwoo’s mouth, both their breaths hitching as their orgasms build, asking, maybe even pleading, Wonwoo to keep his moans to himself so they won’t be busted (“You gotta keep quiet, babe. I got you, but keep quiet.”), even if his naughty smirk, all this overstimulation and the way he doesn’t let Wonwoo come in peace passes the exact opposite idea.

Mingyu definitely has the time of his life watching Wonwoo fall apart under him — and it’s sexy as fuck, if Wonwoo is to be entirely honest.

 

 

The alarm goes off at 06:00. 

“You gotta get up."

"Mm?"

"You gotta get up now. In this minute," he repeats, clipping words he knows his sleepyhead of boyfriend can't quite understand at this time of dawn.

The younger says nothing, but rolls on his side, trying to ignore the light filtering inside the bedroom through the fabric of the window curtains, being so comfortably settled below three wool blankets that keep him warm even if he has fallen asleep completely naked after claiming being too exhausted and lazy to put on the horrible pajamas he packed. As expected, the article of clothing is a waste of space of Mingyu’s luggage, yet the younger insisted.

"Gyu.” Wonwoo pats Mingyu’s cheeks with the pad of his index finger two times per second spent trying to convince him to join him on the beach. “The wind woke me up two times during the night. It must be breaking. Seriously breaking. Hurry up otherwise you’ll be the one whining for what’s left of winter for missing this out.”

“Hyung,” Mingyu calls lazily, eyes still closed and a painful little twist on his expression. The older dives down on his side of the bed to pillow his cheek on Mingyu’s chubby one. The skin is warm and he snuggles closer. “Pet my hair, please.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yeah. You pet Jun-hyung’s all the time.”

Wonwoo checks the watch on his wrist: it’s 6:04 but maybe he can waste two minutes carding his fingers over Mingyu’s soft raven hair. “He’s a cat. You can’t deny petting their fur, rub their bellies and stuff. It’s bad luck.”

Mingyu huffs out a laugh to agree, but he’s the one moving a hand to rest on top of Wonwoo’s head. “You’re a cat too,” Mingyu tells him, voice hoarse from sleep, and starts massaging his scalp, which only elicits off Wonwoo a secretive smile that it’s Mingyu’s only.

After hurrying inside the bedroom to gather the stuff and garments they need from their luggage on the spare bed, brush their teeth and jump inside their neoprene wet suits, the pair crosses the lobby with a subtle blush on their cheeks, self-conscious they have been heard overnight and bowing repeatedly to the woman behind the counter whilst carrying surfboards under their arms.

They slip out the front door as fast as they can.

Outside, the scenario differs a lot from the insides of the cozy Inn, though it’s nevertheless deserted. The crispy wind that has raged against the walls, doors and locked windows of their cottage all night now blows Wonwoo’s hair off his forehead, whilst they contently head down the sidewalk to get to Songjeong.

Mingyu is significantly more excited to be in Busan when they get to the humble strip of sand. Not unlike the introspective and quiet Jungmun, They can’t see a single bather in kilometers but there’s a group of three or four surfers inside. It’s as if the small waves crumble for them only. And Wonwoo won’t even try to lie, on winter the waves are shockingly better than all the videos he watched of this specific beach in July. They crash, not too tall and in rapid succession, with intervals of seconds between one and the next, some of them traveling diagonally and taking them by surprise when he emerges from underneath a distinctive tall one.

Eyes drawn to the set of waves forming in front of him but at substantial distance, his limbs are numb, lips blue and he has lost all faith his neoprene vest can save his blood from freezing inside his blood vessels. This winter is looking tougher than the last and he can’t find peace of mind amongst the waves that fatigue him easier than they would on any other season of the year.

Then his name is shout, definitely carried by the soft breeze and straight to his ears. He kicks the water and shifts around, hands pressing his palms on the deck of his board to push his body upwards and fix his posture. They have been inside for quite some time now, having paddled up seawards and waited for a good wave just in front of the shore-break, the safer place to get at least one good wave each.

“Hyung,” Mingyu repeats, keeping his poise posture as the water shakes his board sideways, chaotically but nonetheless graceful. “I don't think Hao were joking when he mentioned moving out of the bungalow."

Wonwoo frowns. "For real? This sucks.”

"Not fretting too much about it. Can be a good thing. Think I’d have to find another roommate though.” Mingyu shrugs and brings his nose up in the air until it’s wrinkled. He looks cute with his bangs covering his eyes and it snatches a grin out of Wonwoo. It may have come out all dopey because his lips are a bit numb but he doesn’t care. “I think I’m looking for someone who is tired of spending the majority of their time by themselves in a huge house and could use having me as a company. Being quiet and enjoying surfing as much as me is essential too, our surfboards can share the garage. Does hyung know someone that fits the profile?”

Wonwoo is still smiling, being flattered and tempted with the subtle invitation to say the least, when he tells Mingyu not to mess with him like this. Most of the time, they feel safe in telling each other stuff whenever it comes to mind, because every moment feels like the appropriate moment to do so.

“You mean it? Really does?” he asks a bit louder, just to be sure this is one of these moments when they decide things can be said without one holding it against each other. Times have gotten simpler lately.

“You'd have your room so you can have your own place to do your stuff and I’d probably be in your bedroom at all times, but still! Unless you’re against having your boyfriend as roommate…”

“This could definitely be an issue.” He hums. “We may have to break up to make things work. Keep things informal and all that jazz.”

“We could start off as fuck buddies and see where it takes us,” Mingyu jokes, but he’s a tad shy now, averting his eyes from Wonwoo’s. 

Forgetting about the cold minutely, Wonwoo now feels all funny and light. It can be because he’s floating on water, surrounded by the infinitude of the sea as well as his own, but either way, he’s thankful for Mingyu having come along to multiply his peace and staying long enough for them to come this far, still together somewhere past the yacht club, the bungalow, Jungmun and the quietest ends and borders of their island, daring to surf Songjeong’s waves whilst witnessing the clouds hovering above their heads seem so thin, they look like watercolor on deep blue canvas.

Jesus. He has spent months oblivious to the road they were eventually heading to: it has never entered his heart that for the eight months they spent together they grew buds of a winter indoors garden and, now, each day feels like watering plants they have taken care of and looked out for with the utmost attention.

“You think about it – about moving in with me – and let me know your answer. You know where to find me,” he says with a conceited grin that has Wonwoo being all up in his feelings, “which is stealing the wave you have been waiting for half an hour.” Mingyu threatens to paddle forward but stops and checks Wonwoo over his shoulders one final time. “It’s funnier when you're shouting at me for burning you.”

Mingyu looks happy teasing him. Wonwoo is happy, too. Yet, he can only sit down and stare Mingyu do what he’s the best at – burning him, of course, but also… Knock him off his feet.

This isn’t Jeju, their private heaven on Earth, clearly. But this peaceful feeling of fulfillment is oddly similar, even being somewhere so far from home. Wonwoo misses the warm days, but in this moment, winter won’t end for another one and a half month and after meeting Mingyu, every season has had a bit of summer in it – something he has only understood after witnessing fall, winter, spring and summer with Mingyu, whose skin got this golden glow all year long, lighting up to the timid sun rays and bringing the most pleasant summer to Busan’s harshest winter.

 

 

 

- 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a lazy, poorly written self-indulgent work but I always have fun writing scenes for these characters so there's probably more to it than I can actually put into words now. I won't even say I'm done with them after this work. Anything can happen from now on, really! 
> 
> I love this hint of utopia present in the world of this series and I love writing about it. However I'm so freaking happy I finished this baby. I've been through some personal issues lately and that's the motive it took me weeks to update, but it's done, finally.
> 
> Thank you for reading. See you next time!


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